


Mad World: This is Me

by crimsonglass



Series: Mad World [3]
Category: General Hospital (TV 1963)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 158,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonglass/pseuds/crimsonglass
Summary: Set in November 2003. The park rapist has been arrested, but he thinks he has a get out of jail free card — pointing to the recent corruption scandals at the PCPD to argue he’s been framed.To make sure he goes away and his victims get justice, Scott Baldwin and Marcus Taggert have one more favor to ask of Elizabeth Webber — testify in a federal hearing to keep the department out of trouble — and to prevent her boyfriend, Jason Morgan, from testifying about a somewhat shady trip made to coerce the truth out of Tom Baker.She won’t be alone — Dante Falconieri has a tape of his cousin confessing — but the contents of that tape compounds the misery for Elizabeth as well as for grieving parents Ned Ashton and Lois Cerullo. Taking the stand against his family will lead Dante lead down a path from which there is no return and might cost him everything.And as if that wasn’t enough, Ric Lansing has disappeared without a trace, bringing back memories of last summer for Elizabeth and Carly Corinthos. Carly reluctantly returns home to husband, Sonny, but her nightmare is only just beginning.The mad world of Port Charles continues.
Relationships: Carly Benson/Sonny Corinthos, Dante Falconeri/Lulu Spencer, Jason Morgan/Elizabeth Webber, Ned Ashton/Lois Cerullo
Series: Mad World [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1155173
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter Fifty-One

**Author's Note:**

> I am posting 5 chapters a day until completion. This is Book 3 in the Mad World series, so read Books 1 & 2 for the first 50 chapters. 
> 
> Content Warnings: suicide, sexual assault, abortion, miscarriage

**Chapter Fifty-One**

_Be my friend, hold me_  
_Wrap me up, enfold me_  
_I am small and needy_  
_Warm me up and breathe me_  
_Ouch I have lost myself again_  
_Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found_  
_Yeah I think that I might break_  
_Lost myself again and I feel unsafe_  
\- Breathe Me, Sia

* * *

_Wednesday, November 5, 2003_

**Port Charles Municipal Building: District Attorney** **’s Office**

Scott Baldwin stepped aside to hold the door as Elizabeth Webber and Jason Morgan entered his office. He dragged a hand through his hair, then gestured at his conference table. “Have a seat, have a seat. I’ll tell you what we know.”

He grimaced slightly, taking a moment to note the irony of this moment. Six months ago, he would have _killed_ to have Jason Morgan walking willingly into his office, but things were different now. His life wasn’t about putting Jason Morgan or Sonny Corinthos behind bars. Not anymore.

Well, it was still a _little_ about making sure Corinthos rotted in hell for eternity, but Scott had turned the corner on Jason thanks to Bobbie Spencer and Elizabeth Webber, who seemed to think there was something worthwhile about Jason.

“I don’t understand how this happened,” Elizabeth said as she sat down. Jason sat next to her, keeping a careful eye on her. It had been only a month since she’d come face to face with serial rapist Vinnie Esposito and survived to tell the tale, even if she’d needed a baseball bat to escape him.

“He was supposed to be wearing an ankle monitor,” Jason said. His expression was bland, almost blank, one might say, but Scott had spent enough time with him to know that Morgan was livid—the way the corner of his eyebrow twitched slightly, the clench of his fist on the arm of his chair, the white knuckles.

“I know.” He exhaled and sat down. “I’ve spent most of the night trying to figure it out. We’re consulting with Crimson Pointe police, but their guys don’t have anything. All they can tell us is that Ric Lansing’s ankle monitor turned off around 8:42 PM last night. They contacted us about ten minutes later. By 9:30 PM, they’d performed a search of the entire Zacchara estate. No sign of him.”

Scott looked at Jason. “Thank you. For allowing your guards to talk to us freely.” He’d been stunned silly when two of Morgan’s men had willingly sat down with Taggert that morning to give statements but grateful nonetheless. “Cassadine’s security also said the same. They all had eyes on the front gates. Nothing stirred.”

“So, what’s next?” Elizabeth asked, her voice tight. She clenched her hands in her lap, stared down at the table. Jason reached over, took one of her fists in his, laced their fingers together, forcing her to relax. She glanced at him, then sighed as she returned her attention to Scott. “I mean, where are you looking? Are you looking?”

“We put out the APB last night and is running in all the major newspapers in the state this morning, even in New York City,” Scott continued. “We’re contacting the FBI to see if we can get their assistance, but since Ric wasn’t charged with anything federal, they’re limited at the moment until we have proof he’s crossed state lines.”

“But you don’t _know_ anything,” Jason said flatly. “Nothing that you didn’t know last night. Ric disappeared, and no one can say where he is or might go.”

Scott met his eyes, then swallowed hard. It was insane to feel like he’d disappointed Jason Morgan, but he also knew that Morgan had _let_ Ric live. He could have had the scumbag disposed of at any point in the last four months since Lansing had been arrested for kidnapping and attempted murder, among the other charges levied for what had happened to Elizabeth.

But Lansing had survived to be released on bail. He’d survived months in Crimson Pointe. If Morgan had wanted him dead, Scott knew Jason could have made it happen. Instead, he had let the case wind through the system.

Now the system had let Elizabeth down. Again.

“No, we don’t. I wish we did. But Lansing has resources that we don’t even know about. I’m sorry,” he told Elizabeth. “I wish—I don’t know—I wish we’d done something different.”

“If Carly and I had agreed to a deal,” Elizabeth said softly, “it might be over. He’d already be in Pentonville or Sing Sing.” She looked at Jason. “Were we wrong? Did we make a mistake?”

“No,” Jason told her simply. “You wanted a trial. You deserved it.”

She swallowed hard and looked back at Scott. “What about me and Carly? We’re the star witnesses against him. I know he was trying to discredit me during our divorce proceedings, but the judge ruled last week that he couldn’t force a property settlement I didn’t want. Ric was trying to delay the divorce so I couldn’t testify against him, I think. But they finalized it—I mean, they gave me a date when it’ll be over. Is that why he escaped now?”

“Maybe,” Scott allowed. “I don’t know. I can’t see what Ric will gain by going after either you or Carly. You might be my star witnesses, but you’re not the _only_ ones. Bobbie and Nikolas both saw the panic room. Cody Paul and Cruz Rodriguez were there when you found the button. There’s the real estate agent, and the footage you gathered during the week Carly was gone—your statements are on the record as well.” He forced himself to smile. “You two are the icing on top of a very well-baked cake.”

He looked at Jason. “And I’m sure that Jason here has made you and Carly as safe as you can be. Especially after what happened in September.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth looked at Jason with a faint smile. “Yeah, I’m safe. I guess I was just—” She sighed. “I was hoping it would be over. We were going to trial next week—” She rubbed her temple.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I wish this could be different. I promise to keep you loop, okay?” Scott got to his feet and surprised himself by reaching out, extending a hand to Jason, who reluctantly shook it. “We’ll find him. Somehow.”

“I know you’ll try hard. Thanks, Scott.” She also shook his hand, then held it a moment longer. “I mean that. Thank you. For everything you’ve done since he was arrested.”

“I’m just sorry I don’t have better news for you today.” He clasped his other hand over their joined ones, enveloping her hand in both of his. “But you know, you should be proud. For taking down Floyd, standing up for yourself and the other women—and you’ve got a lot to look forward to, you know.” He smiled at her. “Take care of yourself and that baby. Leave Ric to us.”

“Thank you.”

He walked them out, then returned to his office to go over the case one more time, praying for a detail that he had missed.

**PCPD: Commissioner** **’s Office**

Mac Scorpio grimaced as he hung up the phone. “Sorry,” he said to the city’s mayor-elect. “It’s crazy this morning with the Lansing case.”

“Yeah, I imagine.” Ned Ashton took a seat and studied Mac for a long moment. “How is that going? I don’t see Floyd stomping in to make demands.”

“No election left to win,” Mac said dryly. “He saw the writing on the wall and left me alone after the Esposito case wrapped up.” He tapped a pencil against the case report. “As for Lansing, we’re still waiting on some footage from red light cameras and speed traps in Crimson Pointe. Hoping for some sign of life. As of right now, it’s like Lansing disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“Any chance that’s true?” Ned asked carefully. “Lansing, uh, made some enemies in this town.”

“If Morgan and Corinthos had wanted Lansing dead, he’d be dead,” Mac replied simply. “Scott got the impression they’d decided to let him live, at least through the trial. Elizabeth and Carly wanted to testify.”

“So it’s unlikely they did anything before their testimony.” Ned nodded. “I can understand that. I know how protective Jason is of Elizabeth, especially now. If he made her a promise, he’s not going back out. What about the other enemies? The Zaccharas?”

“I can’t see why Trevor and Anthony would bring all this crap on themselves right now,” Mac said. “If they wanted Ric dead, there were easier and cleaner ways. Right now, they’ve got authorities crawling over the estate with a fine-tooth comb. Better for all parties concerned if Ric is shanked in the shower at Sing Sing in a year or two.”

He shook his head. “No, I think Lansing took the chance and split. We’ve got the APB out, and media has been alerted. Baldwin’s working with the U.S. Attorney’s office in Syracuse to get federal help tracking him.”

“So you do know how to do this job,” Ned said, caustically. “It’s nice to see you actually doing something productive for a change.”

Mac exhaled slowly and took the hit. Ned, more than anyone, had earned the right to rake him over the coals whenever he wanted for what Mac had done.

It hadn’t _felt_ so wrong five years ago when he’d quietly closed Elizabeth Webber’s rape case without further investigation. He’d believed Tom Baker had committed the crime and was on his way to jail. He couldn’t have known that Baker had falsely confessed to Elizabeth or that one of his own men had brutally raped her—

Or that Vinnie Esposito would rape six more women, including Ned’s daughter, Brooke Lynn, who had died by suicide earlier that summer.

He couldn’t have known it, but he knew he should have done more. At the very least, he _should_ have done the right thing by Elizabeth five years ago. A DNA test would have excluded Tom Baker. It might not have stopped the later rapes, but maybe they could have caught Vinnie before he’d gone after Elizabeth again. Falsifying that lab report—it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

There was no way to know what might have been different, only to live with the consequences of his actions.

“Everyone wants Lansing brought in,” Mac said after a long moment. “I’d be surprised if he were still in the jurisdiction, but…” He trailed off.

“I’m not here for an update, but thank you for it all the same.” Ned got to his feet. “You know why I’m here.”

“I do.”

Ned’s handsome features twisted in a sneer. “Look at you, like a fucking martyr, ready to take your punishment like it will make a difference.” He shook his head. “It _won_ _’t_. You can go quietly, you can go angrily, I don’t care which.”

Mac thought Ned did care—that he would prefer Mac to put up a fight and proclaim his innocence. He was searching for someone to blame, to be angry at. Somewhere to put all the energy, all the devastation from the loss of his daughter. He’d funneled it first into his campaign to replace Garrett Floyd as mayor, but now—

Now Mac wondered how Ned would go on without somewhere to focus that energy. Would he find comfort and solace in being mayor?

“I know what I did. I know it was wrong. There’s nothing I can ever do to make it right, Ned. I put myself in front of the job. I told myself I was doing it because I wanted to take care of my girls, but I should have seen all the other girls I let down.” He got to his feet. “I can throw a punch, I can yell at you. But I don’t want to. You’re right. I’m wrong.”

“Damn right. And I don’t care about your excuses. About your rationalizations. I take office on December 1.” Ned exhaled slowly. “I thought about demanding your resignation the same day, but the person replacing you can’t start until December 10.”

He looked at Mac. “You might know her. She’s been working in Pine Valley the last few years.”

Mac smiled faintly, then nodded as he looked down at his desk. “Anna,” he said quietly. He looked back up. “Anna Devane. That—you couldn’t do better than her.”

“I know. So—” Ned cleared his throat. “I need you to stay until she starts,” he muttered. “I almost wanted to let the department go without a commissioner for nine days because, hell, what difference would it make—but—” He shook his head. “Then Lansing jumped bail. And I know what he can do. What he’s already done. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t do everything I could to bring him in. So you’ll stay until she starts.”

“Of course.”

Ned went to the door, then stopped. He turned back to look at Mac, and Mac was startled to see that some of the hatred and anger had dissipated. “You know, I actually do believe you thought it was Tom Baker. You didn’t know a serial rapist was stalking the streets—”

“It’s my _job_ to know,” Mac interrupted roughly. “I trusted Vinnie. I knew him back then. And he was—he wasn’t like that. Not where you could see.” He’d never seen the monster underneath.

“No. Some demons only come out in the dark. Keep me in the loop on the Lansing case.”

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Sonny** **’s Office**

Sonny Corinthos scowled at his partner, then started to pace the room. “How the hell can they say they don’t know _anything_?” he demanded.

Jason slid his hands into his pockets and sighed. “Because they had even fewer eyes on the place than I did. Harry and Tito didn’t see anything, Sonny. Neither did the guy Nikolas had watching the place. If the ankle monitor was deactivated—”

“He had _help_ ,” Sonny snarled. He whirled to glare at Bernie Abrams, their business manager and adviser. “Have you contacted Anthony? What the hell does _he_ have to say for himself?”

“Trevor told me the same thing they told the police,” Bernie replied. He flicked his eyes to Jason and then back to Sonny. “He went up to check on Ric when he didn’t come down for dinner. He wasn’t in his room. Last time he saw his son was around noon. They didn’t contact the police because it’s not their problem. The police were only notified when the ankle monitor went dead.”

“They’re lying,” Sonny muttered. He jabbed a finger at Jason. “If _you_ _’d_ let me kill this fucker months ago, we wouldn’t _be_ in this position—”

Since Elizabeth had voiced a similar thought about wishing she’d let the whole thing be pleaded down, Jason didn’t argue with Sonny. He wanted Ric Lansing dead, too, but it wasn’t up to him, and it wasn’t up to Sonny.

Carly and Elizabeth had made their wishes clear —to deal with what had happened to them, they both wanted to face him in court. End of story. Sonny had seen the whole thing as a betrayal by his own wife and a sign of weakness on Jason’s part for giving in.

Jason didn’t care. He had made Elizabeth a promise, and he wasn’t in the habit of breaking them. Not after what she’d gone through last summer with Ric Lansing almost killing her, then being attacked by the man who’d raped her as a teenager.

“Baldwin knows something,” Sonny decided. “He’s just not telling _you_. He hates our guts and isn’t gonna do us any favors. I kept _telling_ Carly that, but she let her mother—and Elizabeth—change her mind. Don’t think I forgot about _that_ —”

“Baldwin _doesn_ _’t_ know anything,” Jason snapped, done with the snide remarks about Elizabeth. “He didn’t have anything to hide. And he hates _you_. Not Elizabeth.” Or Jason, since Scott had gone out of his way to help Jason keep control of her medical care, but Jason didn’t think Sonny wanted to hear about all the ways Scott Baldwin had played this case fairly.

Sonny was livid that Lansing had slipped through their grasp, and he was worried that the other members of the syndicate might see it as a sign of weakness that Lansing still drew breath. Jason didn’t spend a lot of time worrying about that kind of thing — if he wanted to prove his strength, he just kicked someone’s ass.

“Baldwin wouldn’t lie to Elizabeth. He’d lie to me maybe, but not her. Not about Lansing. He knows she could still file charges against the PCPD and the city for the crap they pulled with both of her cases,” Jason told Sonny. “That’s the reason Baldwin called her in at all. They’re making sure she’s not pissed off.”

“I don’t know why I bother. You’re never going to see it my way,” Sonny muttered. He sat behind his desk, put his head in hands. “Suppose Baldwin isn’t lying. What’s the game?”

“I’m not sure it has to be that complicated,” Bernie offered. Jason looked at him, frowned, and Bernie continued. “Well, the trial starts next week, and the hearing last week made it clear that Elizabeth _would_ be able to testify against him. He can’t drag out the divorce anymore, and he can’t put off the trial. So he split.”

“He’s probably halfway to South America by now,” Jason continued. “He still has contacts from his work with Luis Alcazar. He could disappear in Venezuela or Colombia and pass as a local with his coloring. He knows the language. I agree, Bernie. I think Lansing took his chance and left. I don’t know if the Zaccharas helped him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s in the wind.”

“You mean you _hope_ he is. How do we know he’s not just licking his lips, waiting for another chance at Elizabeth or Carly? He was obsessed with Elizabeth. He tried to kill my wife, steal my son to give him to Elizabeth—and you think he’s _done_ with her?” Sonny demanded.

“I’m not ruling that out,” Jason said. “I called Roy DiLucca in Miami. He’s laying groundwork with the Ruiz family to use their network in the region. They use a lot of the same connections that Alcazar did. Ric would probably use the same connections. I talked to Vic on the island to make sure Ric doesn’t get through the Caribbean without us knowing it.”

Sonny nodded. “Okay. Okay. That’s more like it. But that’s supposing Ric is going to South America. What if he’s not? What if he’s staying in the area?”

“The Towers are secure. Since Esposito got in, the PCPD doesn’t get in without a warrant.” Or unless they were cops Elizabeth trusted, but there was no way in hell Jason would tell him that. “And we have keys for the elevators. Stan finished installing that last week. You and I have keys. Elizabeth has one. So does Max, Marco, and Cody because they need access to the penthouse floor. We gave one to Wally on the front desk to let people upstairs—with authorization. No one gets upstairs without someone on the floor who lives there giving permission,” Jason reminded him.

Sonny nodded. “Okay. Okay. And Elizabeth—she should stay in for a while. I’ll get Carly to come stay at the penthouse with the boys until we get this bastard—”

“I—I don’t think that’s necessary,” Jason said, a bit unsettled by that suggestion. Carly had barely recovered from being locked up in the panic room—he didn’t think it was a great idea to ask her to be locked up again, even if it was in a luxurious penthouse. “I think the Brownstone has good security—”

“I’ll ask her anyway,” Sonny said. “Things are better between us, so she was going to come home soon anyway.”

Jason didn’t argue with him. He didn’t know Carly’s mind, and he wasn’t going to pretend he did. “We’re as prepared as we can be, Sonny. I don’t like this either, okay? Elizabeth—she’s pregnant. You think I’m going to take any chances with her?”

“No. No.” Sonny took a deep breath, and some of the anger and tension bled from his face as he met Jason’s eyes. “Of course not. How is she? I mean, with this Ric stuff—she handling it?”

“She’s doing okay,” Jason said, grateful that Sonny had remembered he actually liked Elizabeth. “She’s leading a support group for survivors at the hospital, and it’s helping. And we just had an appointment yesterday with the doctor. She’s good.” Her blood pressure had been elevated, but still in the normal range—nothing they hadn’t expected after Vinnie Esposito’s attack in September.

“Good. Good.” He looked at Bernie. “What’s going on down at the waterfront? Tommy collected on the World Series bets yet?”

**General Hospital: Carly** **’s Room**

Carly Corinthos smiled faintly as her mother gently laid a freshly washed and clean Morgan Stone Corinthos back into his crib. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” she murmured. She turned her head to face them. “You’d never know everything he’s been through.”

“That’s because he has a strong mother.” Bobbie Spencer leaned over to kiss her head gently. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back to take you home tomorrow.”

Bobbie turned towards the door and stopped when she saw Sonny standing there. “Sonny.”

Carly blinked, then winced as she sat up. “Sonny. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wanted to see my son again.” Sonny nodded at his mother-in-law. “Bobbie. How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m going home to check on Lucas, then coming back tomorrow to take both Carly and Morgan home,” Bobbie said, lifting her chin at the final word, reminding Sonny that Carly didn’t live with him anymore and hadn’t in almost two months.

“Mama,” Carly said, pointedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bobbie sniffed, then kissed Morgan’s forehead one more time before leaving. Sonny closed the door behind her, and went over to check on their son. He lifted Morgan out of the bed, and cradled him against his chest.

“How was your meeting with Jason?” Carly asked. “Elizabeth came by after she talked to Scott. She said Baldwin didn’t know anything.”

A muscle in Sonny’s cheek clenched, and Carly knew it was because he wasn’t comfortable with her asking about business. She didn’t consider Ric Lansing to be business related, and neither did Elizabeth.

That was why she’d left Sonny—because he’d refused to remember that it had been _Carly_ who’d been kidnapped, _Carly_ who’d been traumatized by a week inside a cold, dark, panic room, locked up by a man who wanted to kill her and steal her baby. To Sonny, Ric was business. To Carly, Ric was what nightmares were made of.

And she’d left him to make sure Sonny never forget that _Carly_ mattered, too.

“No, according to _Baldwin_ ,” Sonny said with a sneer, “they don’t know anything.”

Carly wasn’t in the mood for another go around on Scott Baldwin and her trust in the system, so she nodded. “Okay. But that didn’t tell me anything. What do you and Jason think?”

“We think we need to be cautious.” Sonny set Morgan back in his bed and walked over to sit in the chair next to her bed. “Jason is going to be dealing with Elizabeth’s security, and I—I think it’d be a good idea for you to come stay at the penthouse. Until Ric is found.”

Carly shook her head. “No, Sonny, we’ve _talked_ about this—”

“We have. And I understand that you still have some things to work out—”

Carly narrowed her eyes at that because, as usual, Sonny was making it sound like this was all her fault. “ _We_ have things to work out,” she began, but Sonny continued speaking as if he didn’t hear her.

Story of her life.

“But with the new elevator security,” Sonny said, “there’s no place safer for you and the boys.” He hesitated. “I’m not asking you to stay forever, Carly. Just until we find Ric—”

“And how long is that going to take?” Carly demanded. She winced as she sat up further. “Weeks? _Months_?”

“Days,” Sonny said flatly. “We’re already on his trail, and Jason and I aren’t going to rest until he’s dead. You understand that’s what is going to happen, don’t you? It was one thing to let you get your way when we knew where he was and could control the situation—”

Carly closed her eyes. “ _Let_ me get my way—”

“But we don’t know what’s going on. What he’s planning. He’s escaped. I let him live after this, it’s just another sign of weakness. I can’t let that happen.”

She pressed her lips together. “I get it. It’s different now that he’s jumped bail, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to come home.”

“If you understand it’s different now, then we don’t have any other problems. That’s why you left in the first place, isn’t it?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah, but there were other—” Carly was too tired to argue. “Look. Let me think about it. It’s been a long day, and I just—I don’t know. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He picked up her hand, kissed her fingertips. “I love you, Carly. I just—I just want to protect my family. I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“I know,” she said, softening slightly. She knew that he’d suffered a psychotic break during the kidnapping. It had been terrible for them all. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to try and put it behind her, too. “I love you, too.”

**Scorpio House: Kitchen**

Mac dumped a can of soup into a bowl, then shoved it in the microwave to heat. It was a sorry excuse for dinner, but he hadn’t been in the mood to stop anywhere for dinner on the way home.

The day after the election, after Ned had run on a campaign to oust not only Floyd but Mac at the PCPD—well, he knew what people were thinking when they looked at him today.

“You know, you could return just one phone call.”

Mac glanced over his shoulder to see his ex-wife leaning against the door, her brows raised. “Felicia. I didn’t hear you knock,” he said dryly. The microwave beeped, and he took out the bowl.

“I didn’t.”

“I know.” He crossed to the kitchen table and took a seat. “What do you want?”

Felicia sat across from him, studying him for a long time. “Did Ned come by today?”

“He did.” Mac swirled the spoon around in the bowl. “I’m officially fired as of December 9. My replacement starts the next day.”

“He’s already found a replacement?” Felicia asked. She leaned back in the chair. “Well, I suppose I can’t be surprised at that. He did make it clear what would happen if he was elected—”

“And it was obvious even to an insane person Floyd was going to lose in a landslide after that press conference.” Mac exhaled. “It’s Anna,” he said softly. He didn’t look up at her, couldn’t bear to see her face.

Because he knew she was thinking about their conversation last summer when he’d confessed to feeling like the lesser Scorpio brother. He’d never measured up to the great Robert Scorpio in life or in death, and to be replaced by arguably the second-best PCPD commissioner in history—his brother’s widow—

It stung, and Mac was hurt more than he had any right to be. He’d destroyed his own career—he’d let Floyd control the conversation, the narrative—he’d bent over backward to stay in power, to keep his job—

“I’m sorry, Mac,” Felicia said after a long moment.

“Well, Anna will do a good job.” He forced a smile on his face as he finally met her eyes. “And maybe Robin will come to visit more. That’s the best I can hope for right now.”

“Exactly.” She tipped her head. “The girls are on campus tonight. You wanna order a pizza, or are you devoted to that soup?”

Mac looked down at the orange liquid in the bowl, then shoved it aside. “I’ll get the menus.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Elizabeth unfastened her necklace, then set it down on her vanity table, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. Despite the awfulness of the day, she still liked to take a minute each night to remember the good things in her life.

She was relatively healthy and expecting a child with a man she loved deeply—who loved her nearly as much as she loved him. And they were living together, planning a future. She had friends who loved her, a job that she was starting to fall in love with—

Ric Lansing might have been poking at the edges of her consciousness, but Elizabeth wasn’t going to let him win. Not tonight.

Not ever again.

“Hey.” Jason closed the bedroom door behind him and crossed over her, leaning over to brush a kiss against her neck. She smiled, closing her eyes.

“Hey.”

“How was the rest of your day?” he asked as he sat on the bed and took off his boots. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home in time for dinner.”

“No worries. Emily came over to check on me for the five minutes she could spare me on her dinner break.” Elizabeth turned around to face him. “Nikolas called from London. He wants to set up a dinner when Laura comes home next week.”

“Dinner?” Jason asked, with a pinched expression. “That—I don’t have to—”

“No, _you_ don’t have to go,” she teased. “Lucky is introducing Kelsey to his parents the first night Laura is home, so I don’t want to get in the middle of that. But Nikolas said Laura wants to see me as soon as we can make it happen. I’m so glad she’s coming home. I can’t wait to tell her about the baby. She’ll be so excited for us.”

“Really?” Jason asked, skeptically.

“Yeah. Lucky and I aren’t together anymore, but she was really kind after it fell apart, and we kept in touch.” She hesitated. “I checked on Carly before I had my group meeting.”

Jason looked at her with a worried expression. “How is she? I wanted to see her, but—”

“She’s okay. We’re both a little nervous because Scott didn’t have any leads, and she wasn’t sure if Sonny would tell her anything. I told her you might be okay talking with me, so I’d keep her in the loop.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m sure a lot of it is business related, so I just—”

“We don’t know much yet either,” Jason told her. “We put feelers out to anyone we know in South America. We think he’ll go there because he worked for Alcazar.” He hesitated. “I agree with Baldwin, you know. I don’t think you and Carly are in any danger.”

“You agree with Baldwin?” Elizabeth managed a smile. “I should get that on tape in case I want something later.”

He smiled at her, then stood and pulled her to her feet. “I can’t think of anything you’d want that you’d need to use leverage to get,” Jason told her before kissing her. She sighed and melted against him for a moment—then drew back.

“But if Carly and I _were_ in danger—”

“The elevator security system is up and running. There are only seven keys right now. We might give one to Justus when he gets back from Philly with his family tomorrow. Maybe Bernie and Francis. But it’s going to be limited to the people who _need_ access to this floor.”

“That does make me feel slightly better, but then again—I did let Vinnie up—”

He slid his thumb under her jaw, lifted her chin so their eyes met. “And Cody went downstairs without you. That won’t happen again. And you’re not planning to invite Taggert or any of his people over for dinner, so I think we’re good.”

“You’re right. And _don_ _’t_ blame Cody—”

“I don’t. He blames himself enough for both of us.” Jason stripped off his shirt and pants, pulling back the comforter. “You have Cody during the day, and Marco if you need to go out at night. Is—is there something else I can do to make you feel safe?”

“No.” Elizabeth sat on the bed, then pulled him down next to her. “No,” she repeated more firmly. “And I _do_ feel safe.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked. “Because Sonny—he wants Carly to come stay in the penthouse. You could—you could stay in for a few days if you wanted—”

“No, that—I have things I want to do. And _need_ to do. I have a meeting tomorrow,” she told him. “It’s—” She managed a smile. “I told you I was hoping to get together with some of the other survivors. Vinnie’s other…” Elizabeth sighed. “In case we want or need a statement at his sentencing next month. Plus, I was hoping we’d feel better if we were working through it together.”

“The first one is tomorrow?” Jason asked. He smoothed his hand down her hair, letting his fingers slide through the strands. “You’re sure? Right now—it’s not public that you were the first—that the others—”

“It will be by the sentencing. They can do the math. And I’m not—it _wasn_ _’t_ my fault what happened to them.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It wasn’t their fault they went into the park. Ric isn’t my fault either. So, no, I don’t want to stay in the penthouse. I worked hard—and so did Carly. We _both_ worked really hard so that what happened doesn’t control our lives.”

She leaned forward to kiss him. “Tomorrow, I’m going to work. Then we’re taking wine to Justus and his wife to welcome her to Port Charles. And then, if you’re not busy, maybe we can do something for dinner. Take the bike out before it gets too cold.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He kissed her back, then gently laid her down on the bed.


	2. Chapter Fifty-Two

_Here's another pity there's another chance_  
 _Try to learn a lesson but you can't_  
 _If we can burn a city in futures and in past_  
 _Without a change our lives will never last_  
 _Cause we're going fast_  
\- Mona Lisa (When the World Comes Down), All-American Rejects

* * *

_Thursday, November 6, 2003_

**General Hospital: Carly** **’s Room**

Jason knocked lightly on Carly’s hospital room door the next morning, and she smiled at him, cradling her newborn son in her arms on the sofa. “Hey.”

“Hey. Am I interrupting anything?” he asked, wondering if she’d been about to feed him.

Carly shook her head. “No. I was just trying to move around a little bit, and laying in that bed gets old fast.” She gestured with her head for him to sit by her. “You haven’t been able to see Morgan much yet.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jason said with a wince as he sat down and allowed Carly to set the baby in his arms. “It’s been—”

“Crazy,” Carly finished with a knowing nod. “Story of our lives, but it’s okay. Morgan knows his uncle Jason loves him. Or he will when I’m done brainwashing him.”

Jason smiled, and she was glad to see it even for a moment because his expression quickly returned to sober. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. “With Ric jumping bail?”

“I’m trying to be,” she admitted. She rearranged her robe, pulling the ends around her more tightly. “It’s…it’s a lot to take in. I knew he was free, but with the ankle monitor, I could still feel like I was safe.”

She hesitated, then said, “Did Sonny tell you he wants me to move back in until Ric is found?”

“He did,” Jason said evenly. He met her eyes. “You know the security is good. We’ve upgraded it since…” His mouth tightened, and he looked down at the newborn in his arms. Morgan waved his fist, yawned, fluttered his eyelids, then settled back down into a doze.

“Since,” Carly finished. “I know. What kind of changes are you making for Elizabeth?” she asked. “I mean, I know you’re not taking chances with her since she’s pregnant.”

Jason didn’t answer her right away, then almost reluctantly, he said, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Carly repeated. She sat back a little, her eyes wide. “Nothing at _all_?”

“I don’t know that there’s anything I can do short of locking her in the penthouse that would make her safer,” Jason said carefully. “We talked about it, and she’s really—she’s doing a lot right now. She’s leading her group meetings, and she’s still doing therapy. She’s…” He cleared his throat. “She has a guard with her at all times, and I know her schedule. She calls me if it’s going to change. That’s enough for me.”

“It wouldn’t be enough for Sonny,” Carly muttered. “Or I don’t know. Maybe it would have once. You know, a year ago, with all that Alcazar stuff—and Brenda,” she muttered as an afterthought. “With all of that—he never tried to change how I was living my life.”

“That was before the panic room,” Jason told her. “Before he—”

“Before he hallucinated Lily, the last pregnant woman he couldn’t protect,” Carly said with a sigh. “Yeah, I know. Maybe Mama was right. He should have gotten help. I don’t know, Jase. Sonny and I took this weird turn, or we messed something up. We can’t seem to get on the same page anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was so _angry_ that I wanted Ric to go to trial, to rot in prison. And he gave me this whole speech about I couldn’t get my way anymore. _My way_ ,” she repeated, almost derisively. “Like I wanted a vacation in Tahiti and not Barbados. Is that how it went when you and Elizabeth talked about it—”

“You can’t—it’s _not_ the same—”

“Why not? I was locked in a panic room for a week in the dark, threatened with death every single day. Elizabeth was drugged and attacked—nearly died. We were both traumatized,” Carly pressed. “Why is it so hard to believe we both want the same thing? That testifying might _help_ us get past it.”

“It’s not,” Jason admitted, then winced, realizing he’d ceded the point.

“What is different is how you and Sonny decided to react to it,” Carly insisted. “Did you argue with Elizabeth?”

“Carly—”

“Did you try to make her feel bad for wanting the trial? Did you berate her or tell her it made you weak to let Ric live?”

Jason stared at Morgan again, not wanting to look at Carly, into those hurt and confused eyes. “No,” he said finally. “I said okay.”

“You said okay,” Carly repeated softly. “How fast?”

“What do you mean?” he asked warily.

“Did you talk about it for a while, or did she say—this is what I need, and you said fine. Like it was a five-second decision for you, right?”

“Yes,” Jason admitted.

“Because what Elizabeth needs is important to you. It matters to you that she’s okay, that she can get past all of this— _that_ _’s_ the priority for you, isn’t it?”

This wasn’t helping Sonny’s case, but Jason wasn’t going to lie to his friend. Not about this. “Yes. It’s the only thing that mattered to me, but Carly, what Sonny went through—it was different—”

“Yeah, he had a breakdown. And I’m not blind to that. I get that he _felt_ weaker because you and Elizabeth did most of the work, and Nikolas swooped in at the last minute with the panic room idea. Sonny fell apart, and I’m sorry for it, Jase, I am. And maybe I should…” She sighed, looked away. “Maybe I should just let it be that easy. I’m expecting him to put me first. Why shouldn’t he expect the same?”

“Carly, what works for me and Elizabeth—it’s not going to work for everyone. We’re different people,” Jason insisted. “It’s not that I love her more, or that Sonny loves you less. We just need different things. It’s up to you to decide if you can live with what Sonny needs.”

“I thought I knew,” she murmured. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but maybe it’s not any better than Courtney calling the PCPD instead of waiting for you and Sonny to figure things out, you know? If what I need makes Sonny weaker in the eyes of the people he needs to respect him—I don’t know, maybe there’s another way around it.” She looked at him. “I mean, it’s different now, isn’t it? Ric isn’t coming back from this alive.”

Jason hesitated. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. I guess—” He shifted, uncomfortable. “I guess not. I mean, we could—we could try—” He pressed his lips together. “Elizabeth and I haven’t talked about it lately. Do you—” He looked at Carly. “Is that something you still want?”

“A trial?” Carly asked, surprised by the question. “Do I still want to testify and for him to die in a cell, rotting away until no one even remembers him? Yeah. That’s something I still want. I just—I’m not sure if it’s something I _need_ anymore. Maybe Elizabeth feels the same. You know, we felt one way about it months ago. But she’s—she just dealt with her rapist. And she’s pregnant. Maybe she wants to put it behind her.”

“Maybe. I’ll talk to her. But Carly, if you—if you decide this _is_ something you need—” He gently handed Morgan back to her. “Then I’ll try to make it happen. It’s important to me that _you_ _’re_ okay.”

“Okay is a strong word,” Carly said with a sigh. “But it’s a goal. Hey, Jase—before you go, can you be honest with me about something?”

“Always,” he said, rising to his feet.

“Will it be easier for you if I come back to the penthouse until Ric is found?” Carly asked, searching his eyes. “I mean, Sonny will be more focused and less agitated if I’m where he wants me. And—and that would make things better for you.”

“Yes,” Jason said after a long moment. “But that’s not what’s important to me. I care about you—and the boys. Do what’s better for you. I can take care of myself.”

“I know. I just—I’m thinking about all of us. It’s something I’m trying out,” Carly said with a hesitant smile. “I’m not good at it, so be patient.”

He laughed and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

**General Hospital: Meeting Room**

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, looking at the four women in the room with her. “For doing this today. I know—I know it was hard.”

“Not as hard as I thought it’d be,” Dana Watson murmured. She toyed with the ends of her short, red hair—cut and dyed in the months since she’d been raped and beaten in the Port Charles Park. She wasn’t the only woman in the room who’d shed the long brunette hair that had served as a trigger for Vinnie Esposito to target them—to follow them.

Veronica Logan’s hair was also short and dyed black. Next to her, Wendy Morris’s hair was a white-blonde, worn in a pixie style. Other than Elizabeth, only Renee Norton had kept her hair color.

“It’s stupid,” Wendy muttered, folding her cardigan sweater around herself. “Ever since the papers published the kind of girls he was looking for, I stopped going to the movies.” She glanced at Elizabeth, then down at her nails, bitten down to the quick. “I’ve never gone back to the park. Not in all these months. I couldn’t go on the Fourth of July.”

“It took me almost a year,” Veronica said softly. She looked at Elizabeth. They were the bookends of the original attacks — Elizabeth had been attacked Valentine’s Day 1998, and Veronica had been Vinnie’s final victim in the first round, attacked in January 2000 because Vinnie had been one of the responding officers to the bomb in Elizabeth’s studio that New Year’s.

“It’s not _your_ fault,” Veronica continued. “I—I read what the papers said. About him trying to replicate the first attack. That—that we were hurt worse because we weren’t you.”

Elizabeth’s stomach swirled as she took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, it was hard at first not to blame myself.”

“ _I_ blamed you,” Wendy said bluntly. “But—” she swallowed hard. “But I don’t now.” She bit down hard on her lip. “Mostly. I know it’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” Dana said with a shake of her head. “I—I read that it’s normal, you know, for you to blame things like that. I—I was really pissed at my best friend because she flaked on the movies at the last minute, so I was alone. I couldn’t talk to her for weeks. I kept thinking—if she’d just come with me, I might have had a ride home.”

“I blamed myself for lying,” Elizabeth said. “If I hadn’t lied about having a date, I wouldn’t have been in the park. I—I hated myself a long time for that. Sometimes I still do. It’s okay if you blame me. I keep thinking—” She took a deep breath. “I served him coffee after that. All the time. He—he was one of my regulars. He was a good tipper—” Her voice broke. “But I forgot that. You know—I didn’t remember that he’d taken my statement at a shooting, or that I’d seen him a thousand times in town. He just—”

“He blended,” Wendy said. “I mean, he interviewed us after—how fucking disgusting is _that_?”

“That might be the worst part,” Veronica admitted. “He investigated the cases this time. How—how do I trust the police again?”

“I can’t,” Renee murmured. The youngest of them, barely seventeen, no older than Elizabeth had been the night her world had been shattered. “I won’t _ever_ trust them again.”

“Maybe not,” Elizabeth said. “I trusted a few of the cops so much that I assumed that one of them had sent Vinnie to question me that day. I live in a secure building, and I let him in. After all of that.”

“I’m sleeping better,” Renee volunteered with a half-smile. “Since—since he was arrested, and they told me you bashed in his head with a bat.”

“I didn’t—” Elizabeth managed a smile of her own. “I actually hit him in the knees. My boyfriend—he gave me the bat to protect myself last year. He told me that I’m not tall enough to take someone down by swinging at their head. I might just make them angry. So I should go for the knees and run. He hit the edge of my bed on the way down.”

“I like that better,” Wendy said, swiping at her eyes. “I like that he suffered even _more_.”

“Me, too,” Veronica admitted. She looked at Wendy and Renee. “What happened to you—it’s fresher for you. And you,” she added to Elizabeth, who shook her head. “I don’t know if it will help you to imagine that it will get better.”

“When the last girl—when Brooke Lynn Ashton died, my mom got scared I might try it, too,” Renee told them. “She slept on my floor for two weeks. It helped.”

“I thought about it, too,” Dana said. “I just—I didn’t.”

“I’m so glad that you didn’t,” Elizabeth told her. “Thank you. Even if you don’t come back, thank you for coming today. For sharing your stories.” When the session had opened, each of them had recounted their experience—and it had helped to hear all the ways it had been the same.

“Thank you for organizing it,” Veronica told her. “It—it really helped. I mean, I used to come to survivor meetings, and it helped to know I wasn’t alone. But when I found out—” She sighed.

“I used to feel that way, too,” Elizabeth admitted as she got to her feet. “But then I found out I was the first of…” So many. Seven women Port Charles, and three more in Buffalo that were still being investigated. How many more had never reported? “It made me sick to know I _wasn_ _’t_ alone anymore.”

“I’ll see you next week,” Renee told her shyly as the last of the women to leave the room. “You—you were really my age when it happened?”

“Yeah. I’d just turned sixteen a few months earlier,” Elizabeth said.

“And now you’re okay.” Renee took a deep breath. “You—you’re happy, right? I mean, you have a boyfriend. And I-I read somewhere that you’re having a baby.”

“Yes.” Elizabeth smiled, touching her belly. “Fifteen weeks, so I’m not showing just yet.”

“So you could—you like…” Renee’s cheeks were beet red as she struggled to get out of the words. “You…could, like, do it. I mean—have—”

“It took a while,” Elizabeth told her gently. “But I was able to fall in love and trust someone with not only my heart but my body. I used to be so scared that I could never let someone touch me. But time and patience, and the love of my first boyfriend—I got through it.” She squeezed Renee’s hand. “I hope it will be the same for you.”

She walked out of the room with Renee and smiled when she saw Gail Baldwin, her therapist, and the reason she was leading these meetings, waiting for her. “I’ll see you next week, Renee.”

“Bye.”

“How did it go?” Gail asked as she and Elizabeth walked towards her office. “I know you were nervous.”

“Good,” Elizabeth answered. “Better than I expected. Um, I don’t know if they’ll all come back, but I’m glad they came once. Thanks for helping me set it up. I wasn’t sure if—” She shrugged as they paused at the doorway to Gail’s office. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it did.”

“You have an instinct for this,” Gail told her. “That’s one of the reasons I stopped by. I wanted to talk to you about the possibility of you doing this more formally.”

“Formally?” Elizabeth raised her brows. “Like a job? Gail, I’m not qualified—”

“Not at the moment. But you could be. You have your BA, don’t you?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “For all the good it does me. Art History isn’t much of a field—”

“You just need a BA to qualify for graduate school. I have some friends at PCU. With a master’s degree in counseling, you could do more of this.”

Elizabeth hesitated, then tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You think?” she asked, almost skeptically.

“Yes. I do. But it has to be something you want.”

“I—” Elizabeth thought about it for a long moment. “Would I have to specialize in rape counseling? I mean—I can do that. I think it would be okay—”

“You don’t have to. There’s domestic violence, unfortunately. Marriage counseling, addictions—” Gail lifted a shoulder. “There’s a large field to choose from, and you’d make that choice later. I’ve just—I’ve been so proud of you these last few months. Rising up from what you’ve been through, reaching out to help others—you have a gift for this, Elizabeth.”

“I’d have to think about it a little more,” Elizabeth said. “I—I—with the baby and everything—”

“Of course.” Gail smiled at her. “Just let me know. I could make some calls and have you admitted for the fall at PCU. But you and the baby come first. Let me know if you need anything.” Gail paused. “How are you doing…otherwise? Scott told me about Ric Lansing. And, of course, I saw the news.”

“I’m okay. I mean…” Elizabeth paused. “I’m okay,” she repeated. “I’m trying not to think about it if I don’t have to. Jason and I talked about it last night, and I think I’ll be fine. But thanks for checking.”

“You call me any time,” Gail told her. She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Just because we’ve finished formal therapy, it doesn’t mean I don’t still worry.”

Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Gail. I appreciate everything.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Kelsey Joyce shifted nervously as she pushed her lunch around her plate. “We should wait a few more days,” she told Lucky Spencer. “I mean, until your mother has settled in.”

Lucky’s best friends, and fellow rookies at the Port Charles Police Department, Cruz Rodriguez and Dante Falconieri, snickered. Lucky sighed and slid over a five to each of them. Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I just lost a bet,” Lucky admitted. “These idiots—” he jerked a thumb at the others. “Said you would try to get out of meeting my parents, and I figured you were braver than that.” He shrugged.

Kelsey narrowed her eyes, first at her boyfriend of four months before turning her glare on his friends—“Oh, I see how it is.”

“Face it, Kelse,” Cruz said with a shrug. He took a bite out of his burger. “We know you. You’re a wuss.”

“A wuss?” She flicked him hard in the shoulder. “Take it back.”

“Not _that_ kind of wuss,” Dante clarified. “I mean, I’d go through a door with you if I needed to—better you than Beaudry.” Sergeant Ryan Beaudry was the training officer who was supposed to be shepherding the trio through their first year on the force and in Major Crimes, but Beaudry liked to spend most of his shift in his car.

“Just that you like to avoid uncomfortable conversations,” Cruz finished. “And meeting the parents—uncomfortable.”

Kelsey scowled, then sat back, and looked at Lucky. “And you _actually_ bet them?”

“In my defense,” Lucky said, “I bet on you, so I’m the one that got screwed here.” He flashed her a grin, and she wrinkled her nose.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered. “Fine. Okay. Yes. I _am_ nervous about meeting Luke and Laura Spencer. Do you know who your parents are?”

“Uh…” He pretended to think it over, and she whacked him in the arm.

“I mean, your parents literally saved the world. And—” Kelsey shifted, uncomfortable. “They…really liked Elizabeth.”

“Oh.” Cruz blinked at Lucky. “Yeah? They were into your last girlfriend?”

Lucky hesitated. “Yes. And—well, they still think of her as part of the family,” he admitted. “Mom wanted to invite her to dinner that night, too—”

“See? They’re _not_ going to like me—”

“Hey—” Lucky reached across the table and took her hand in his. “There were times my parents liked Elizabeth more than me—”

“Ugh—” Kelsey groaned. She shoved her salad away and put her head on the table.

“You are _terrible_ at this,” Dante told Lucky.

“No, no, I mean—they like her for reasons that have nothing to do with the fact I almost married her. It’s—they got really close because of her—” Lucky winced. “Because of the…Dad was here that night when I brought her back. And she and my mom were, like, working through it together because of what happened to my mom. I mean, they like Elizabeth on her own.”

“Plus, there was that whole year you were dead,” Cruz reminded him.

“Exactly. Elizabeth—she’s just special to them. But that’s because my parents know how to make room for people,” Lucky said. He hesitated. “Well, my mom does. Dad takes some time, but only if you’re a Cassadine, and you’re _not_ a Cassadine—”

“She is basically a Baldwin, though,” Dante said.

“The two of you are a giant pain in my ass,” Lucky snarled at the both of them. “Could you try not to enjoy this so much?”

“Then stop making it so entertaining,” Cruz tossed back.

Lucky glared at them, then turned back to his girlfriend. “Kelsey.”

“What?” she said, her voice muffled since she didn’t raise her head.

“My mother would like anyone I dated. I promise you on that. But she’s going to love you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my mother. Plus, Mom probably knew your dad. You said Scott and your dad went to law school together, right?”

“Right?” Kelsey raised her head, then sighed. “Right. That’s when she was married to Scott. So—”

“So, I don’t think my mother has ever disliked anyone. Except Helena Cassadine. You’re in the clear. And my father likes almost anyone my mother tells him to. Except Nikolas. But that’s a whole other problem.”

“I’m being stupid. I _know_ I’m being stupid,” Kelsey told him, “so don’t agree with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Fine. I’ll have dinner with your parents the night your mom comes back.” She looked at Dante and Cruz. “He gets his money back.”

**General Hospital: Carly** **’s Room**

Carly still wasn’t sure that she was making the best choice, but when both Sonny and Bobbie came to the hospital at her discharge time, she knew it was the right choice at the moment.

“ _Only_ until Ric is found,” she cautioned Sonny as she handed Morgan to him to strap the baby into a carrier. She looked over at Bobbie, who had said nothing since Carly’s announcement. “After that, I have to think about it.”

“Right.” Sonny nodded. “Thank you for this,” he told her. He finished fastening the carrier and turned to Carly, took her hands in his. “I mean it. I—I heard what you said yesterday. What you said a few months ago. I’m trying.”

“I know. And I listened to you. We’ll—we’ll figure this out.” She smiled faintly at him. “Can you do me a favor? Go find Dr. Meadows and make sure everything is signed so we can go.”

“Sure, sure. And I’ll call Leticia to let her know to pack up.”

When Sonny had left the room, Carly turned to her mother. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Bobbie said. She sniffed and started to make the bed. “You’re an adult. You can make your own choices.”

“Jason came by earlier—”

“Oh, don’t tell me _he_ talked you into this? I expected better from him—”

“No, no—” Carly held up her hands. “No,” she repeated. “But I also—one of the things that’s helped me get through all of this is to remember I’m not alone. That Elizabeth went through some of this, too. And—I know she and Jason aren’t talking about it, but the physical problems still aren’t over for her.”

Bobbie hesitated, then nodded. “They’re not. She’s doing well right now. But it’s early in the pregnancy, and that could change. She could deliver normally or have any number of complications because of her medical history.”

“Exactly. I can’t do anything about that. I couldn’t stop him from drugging her. And she worked so hard to find me, to make sure Jason could find me. If she’d left him that first night—Ric might have killed me.”

Carly took a deep breath as her mother’s face paled. “I’m not stupid, Mama. Ric was obsessed with Elizabeth and hated Sonny. He wanted to give my baby to her. If Elizabeth had left him, I wouldn’t have had any value for him. I’m alive today, in part, because of that choice. And she almost died because she stayed. I owe her something for that.”

“She would be the first to tell you that you don’t—”

“But it helps _me_ to see it that way,” Carly insisted. “I’m—I’m selfish. You know that. I am terrible at thinking about other people, and when I try to put them first, I just do what _I_ think they _should_ want. It’s always about me. All the time.”

“Carly…” Bobbie sighed, tilted her head. “You’re not…entirely wrong. But Sonny isn’t much different. You’re giving him what he wants—”

“But I’m not going back for him. Not entirely. That’s only part of it. I’m doing it for Jason and Elizabeth. I watched them every day, Mama, on those little monitors. I watched them search. I saw them put in cameras. They tried _so_ hard to find me.”

“I know they did, and I’m grateful—”

“If I’m at the Brownstone, Sonny might be unfocused. He might be distracted. He’ll be wondering about me, checking on me, and even—maybe—irritating me to the point I want to slap him,” Carly continued. “How much energy do you think he’ll put into the job? Into finding Ric?”

“Very little,” Bobbie admitted.

“The same thing that happened when I was kidnapped. I’m not doing it again. I couldn’t stop it before—I couldn’t help. I can now. And it will be better for Jason if he’s not worrying about me, Sonny, _and_ Elizabeth. He can just worry about his family. The family he’s creating. He deserves to be a father. To have a child no one can take from him.”

“He does.” Bobbie sighed, nodded. “All right. If you think this will help in the long run, I’ll support you. I just—I just want _you_ to be happy.”

“I have my boys, I have my family, my club—” Carly took a deep breath. “And once Ric is out of my life for good, we’ll work on happy.”

**Gatehouse: Living Room**

Lois Cerullo took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold of the house that sat near the entrance to the Quartermaine estate. She’d lived here with Ned as a new wife, trying hard to make their marriage work—

And she’d stayed here briefly last summer. She hadn’t been back since the day Brooke died. Since her baby had left this world.

“Lois. You—” Ned looked at her, then closed the door. “I told you. We could have met in town. At the hotel—”

“We could have,” Lois said. She turned to him, lifted her chin. “But I needed to remember this is just a place. You—you were able to stay.”

“For now,” Ned admitted. “I thought I might move closer to downtown.” He folded his arms. “At least while I’m in office. Maybe getting a condo or something. I—I didn’t think you were coming up this week.”

“I’m not just here for a visit,” Lois told him. “I—I tried to go back to Bensonhurst after—” She looked away from the mantel, from the collection of photos of Brooke and Kristina. “After we found out.” She hesitated. “It always felt like a safe place before, you know? I went there when we got divorced, and after Brooke—” She closed her eyes. “After.”

“But now?” Ned asked.

“Now, I can’t move an inch without seeing Vinnie. He grew up on those streets, Ned. I knew him, you know? I was—I _babysat_ him. I see him on the corners, on the porches—” She sighed. “And Ma isn’t doing much better with it all. The Falconieries—especially his mom and grandmother—they’re saying he was framed. Tricked into it.”

Ned clenched his jaw. “They’re wrong.”

“I know it. They think he’s being scapegoated, that the DNA results are fake—Frannie wants him to withdraw his guilty plea—” Lois’s voice faltered slightly, but she got past it. “I just—I can’t be there anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Lois.” He took her in his arms, wrapped her in a hug. She let him soothe her—it was easier now to let him comfort her. Now that she knew who had stolen their daughter away from them.

“I thought I’d hate Port Charles forever,” Lois said. She drew back slightly. “But—it’s not the same. It was terrible what happened, but it’s also—it’s where he got caught. It’s where he’ll be sentenced. No one around here thinks it’s a lie.”

“You should stay a while,” Ned told her. He stepped back from her, rubbing his hands down her arms, to her elbows, then up again to her shoulders. “You know Grandfather will let you have the owner’s suite at the hotel, or Grandmother would love to have you in the house.”

“Maybe. But I was thinking bigger than that. I, um, you ran for this job to do better, you know? To get rid of Floyd and help people. Like those other poor girls. I want—I want to be part of it.”

“Yeah?” Ned searched her eyes, then nodded. “Yeah, that’d be good. I think—you know, Alexis is going to be the City Attorney. And Jax is taking a sabbatical to be my Chief of Staff. I need people I can trust around me. People who won’t let me get away with—” He managed a smile. “With being me.”

Lois laughed, then bowed her head slightly. “Yeah, you need people who will speak truth to power. Jax and Alexis are good at that. I could—I was good at it once. For a while.”

“No one better. Be my Media Director,” he offered. “Or Communications. Or something. Be in charge of the message. Keep me honest. I—I started this because I needed to think about someone other than Brooke. I needed to make sure someone paid. That it could never happen again.”

“And I want to help,” Lois told him. “So, wherever I fit, I wanna do it. For Brooke.”

“For Brooke.”

**Ward Home: Front Porch**

“I can’t wait to meet Justus’s daughter,” Elizabeth told Jason as they stepped up to the front door. He took the bottle of wine from her and smiled. “Every time he comes over, he has a new picture of her. She’s adorable.”

Jason knocked on the door, then waited. “Thanks for coming with me,” he told her. “I don’t always make a good first impression.”

“You? No,” Elizabeth teased. “I can’t believe it.”

Justus pulled open the front door, grinning at them both. “Hey! Come on in! It’s still chaos here because the movers didn’t…uh…take us seriously when we labeled boxes.” He ushered them into a foyer, closing the door behind them. “Mikki! Jason and Elizabeth are here!”

He shoved a stack aside as they walked through the living room into a dining room where a tall, pretty woman was sorting through a stack of dishes. Her curly black hair was swept into a top loose knot on her head, tendrils falling around her face. “Oh—I am a _mess_.” She turned to them. “Hey. I’m Tamika. Thanks for coming by.”

Jason handed Justus the bottle of wine. “Thanks for moving up here,” he told her. “Justus is the best lawyer we’ve ever had.”

“We like him, too.” She tapped her cheek, and Justus kissed it. “How about you open that up, let it breathe? We can have a glass and toast our first night in the land of boxes?”

“You want some?” Justus asked them. “Elizabeth, I know you can’t—”

“Oh!” Tamika clapped her hands together. “Oh, I forgot all about it! You’re pregnant. Of course not! Justus, go put the wine away and get some of my mama’s sweet tea for us.” She reached out for Elizabeth’s hands. “How are you feeling? How many weeks?”

“Fifteen,” Elizabeth said with a bright smile. Talking about the baby was her favorite thing in the world. “I’m feeling mostly okay. Tired a lot, but that’s normal.”

“Get your sleep in now because it will be your last chance before—”

“Mama, Mama!” They heard footsteps clattering down the backstairs before a miniature version of Tamika appeared in the doorway, dressed in a pair of denim overalls and a pink shirt. “Mama!”

“Kimi, we have guests.” Tamika raised her brows. “Is that how we act with company?”

The little girl pursed her lips, sighed, then looked at Jason and Elizabeth. “Sorry. Kimi. Nice to see you.” She flicked her eyes to her father. “Daddy, my dollhouse is all in pieces.”

“I told you, baby, that’s how we moved it from Philly.” Justus knelt down to sweep her into his arms. “Kimi, this is Daddy’s cousin, Jason, and his—” He hesitated. “Girlfriend, Elizabeth. This is Kimi.”

“Kimani,” Kimi corrected with a sniff. “I _let_ them call me Kimi.”

“Well, aren’t _we_ lucky?” Tamika drawled.

“Cousin,” Kimi repeated. “Like Jeremiah and Haven? Because cousins mean presents.” She fluttered her lashes. “I _like_ presents.”

“Lord, save me,” Tamika muttered. She plucked Kimi from Justus’s hands. “Elizabeth, you wanna come upstairs with me? We can put Miss Kimani’s dollhouse together while the boys talk shop.” She grinned at her husband. “Look at me. Being all helpful and not even waiting to be kicked out.”

“Uh huh.” Justus kissed her again. “We’ll be quick.”

“I’ll bet.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Come on. I’ll show you around the house.”

While Elizabeth and Tamika went upstairs, Justus motioned for Jason to follow him into a room off the living room—his office, judging by the desk and chair surrounded by boxes. “Sorry about Kimi. She thinks family equals gifts, and with Christmas next month—”

“Michael’s the same way,” Jason said easily. “He’s already working on his list. And you’re right. We’re cousins. I’m—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m working on being more okay with that than I was before.”

“The Quartermaines take a lot to get used to,” Justus agreed. “We don’t really have much to talk about, though. I made some calls to my contacts in the State Department. The FBI is agreeing to help track Ric, but they don’t have any leads yet.”

“Yeah, I figured. Bernie’s been talking to our guys in South America. But nothing.” Jason exhaled with a frustrated air. “It’s like he vanished into thin air. I don’t like it.”

“Me, either.” Justus folded his arms. “But he’ll turn up sooner or later. No one can hide forever. And if he does mean to be gone forever, well—” He lifted his brows. “Would that be so bad?”

“No, but—” Jason paused. “I made Carly and Elizabeth a promise,” he told Justus. “They wanted Ric to go to trial, so they could testify against him—to his face,” he clarified. “And then they wanted him to rot in prison.”

“Ah.” Justus heard the words Jason hadn’t said. “Well, then, it’s gonna harder to keep that promise if we can’t find him.”

Jason nodded. “I know. But—” He remembered Carly’s face that morning, the way Elizabeth had looked the day he’d promised her. “I need to do whatever I can to try.”


	3. Chapter Fifty-Three

_Put to rest what you thought of me_  
 _While I clean this slate_  
 _With the hands of uncertainty_  
 _So let mercy come and wash away_  
 _What I've done_  
\- What I’ve Done, Linkin Park

* * *

_Monday, November 10, 2004_

**Jones House: Georgie** **’s Bedroom**

Felicia paused by her youngest daughter’s ajar bedroom door and knocked lightly. “Georgie? What are you doing home?”

“Oh.” Georgie blinked at her mother, glancing up from her laptop. She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts. “I—”

“Your classes start at nine, don’t they?” Felicia looked pointedly at the clock on Georgie’s nightstand, which read 11:34 A.M. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I just—I fell behind in some reading, and I…” Georgie tapped her fingers on the keys lightly, then shoved the laptop away. “I needed a day. I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t apologize.” Felicia sat on the edge of the bed, tilting her head to the side. “It’s my own fault for not looking in on you more since school started. We’ve just been busy at the agency. You know, it’s that time of year.”

Georgie smiled faintly. “The holidays. Everyone wants to do a background check or find out if their boyfriend is cheating before Christmas.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Yeah, I know. I—school is fine.”

“It’s different than high school, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Georgie bit her lip. “I kind of wish I’d gone away to school. Started over.” She looked at the picture board above her bed, filled with photographs of herself through the years. Felicia followed her gaze and saw a group photo from Georgie’s high school graduation the previous June. Georgie had her arm around Dillon Quartermaine’s waist, and she was turning her head to smile at Lesley Lu Spencer, her childhood best friend.

“It’s been hard, I guess, since Dillon and Lulu started dating. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I don’t blame them,” she muttered. She dug her toe into the peach carpet. “And Dillon and I—we only dated a few months. It wasn’t that serious. But—they don’t invite me places anymore.”

“Because of Lulu and Dillon?”

“No.” Georgie met her mother’s eyes. “Because of Brooke. And what happened with Mac.”

“Ah. I wondered. Maxie still isn’t speaking to him, and I’m sure that’s been hard for him.” Felicia folded her hands in her lap. “I was proud of you, you know, for standing up for him. Believing in him, even when your friends didn’t.”

“You were?” Georgie squinted. “But—but I know you agreed with Maxie and everyone else in town. Everyone abandoned Mac. Like one mistake, and that was _it_ —”

“No one who _matters_ has abandoned him,” Felicia corrected her. “I was disappointed, but I’m glad he owned up to it. He dealt with it and tried to make it right. Maxie’s young. She’ll get over it. I understand that people make mistakes.”

“But he—” Georgie hesitated. “What happened to Brooke—it wasn’t his fault. Everyone made it seem like he didn’t do _anything_ , but that’s not true. The mayor wouldn’t let him. I read all the papers, Mom. He _tried_ to get more security for the park, he tried to let people know. He warned me and Maxie.”

“I know—”

“All he did—all he did was one stupid thing. He closed one case, Mom. And they wouldn’t have found _anyone_ even if he had sent Elizabeth’s kit away. Vinnie wasn’t in the system—”

“Sweetheart—”

“It’s not Mac’s fault! He didn’t make Vinnie like that, and he didn’t want Brooke to die—” Her voice trembled. “I liked her, too! And I was nice to her. I thought we could be friends. I liked her more than Maxie did—I was the one who realized she’d left—”

“Georgie—” Felicia leaned over towards the desk and pulled Georgie’s hands, pulled her daughter to sit next to her. “I know you did everything you could. I’m proud of how you handled that night—all of you. You did the best you could. And I know Mac did. But, sweetheart, if Mac had her case tested—they would have known it wasn’t the man in jail. They might have still been looking—”

“They _still_ wouldn’t have tested the other cases,” Georgie said stubbornly. “Sure, Elizabeth would know the truth, but would it have it made it better? It’s just—” She huffed. “I was so mad at all of them, and then _they_ got mad at _me_ —”

She stared blindly at the wall. “And Mac got fired anyway. It didn’t even matter. Ned isn’t going to let him forget what happened. And now everyone thinks I’m a stupid silly girl who doesn’t understand anything.”

“They don’t—”

“Maxie said so—” Georgie’s eyes were lush with tears. “She said they all laughed because I voted for Floyd, but Mom, I _knew_ he wasn’t going to win, and it was—I just wanted to feel like I was helping Mac.”

“I know you did, baby.” Felicia’s heart was sore for her little girl. “Come here.” She put an arm around her, tucking her into her embrace. “And I love you for it. He’s been so good to you. And I know he made the choice he did because he wanted to take care of you and Maxie. He’s a good man, and I’m sorry that people seem to forget that.”

“I just—I miss my friends. I stopped eating at school because I didn’t—I just sit in the library and pretend I’m studying all the time because they won’t sit with me, and I don’t know anyone—” Georgie raised her eyes and looked at Felicia. “I just wanted a day where I didn’t have to do that.”

“Then you take your day. And don’t—don’t worry about your sister and the others,” Felicia said. She tucked Georgie’s hair behind her ears. “For them—this was black and white. You saw the shades of gray, and you did your best. I’m proud of you for it. Sometimes doing what feels right to you feels wrong to everyone else. And it takes a lot of strength to stand against people, especially family and the boy you care about.”

“I was thinking about transferring after this year,” Georgie said. “Maybe another campus. Syracuse isn’t too far away.”

“It’s far enough,” Felicia said with a pained smile. “But let’s get through this first semester. Then we’ll talk about it over the holidays.”

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Sonny** **’s Office**

With a little trepidation and worry, Jason followed Bernie, Justus, and Johnny O’Brien into Sonny’s office. Sonny wanted daily updates on the search for Ric, but each day that passed with nothing to report only increased Sonny’s frustration.

He’d felt powerless to protect Carly six months earlier, and Jason knew that not dealing with Ric in a way that felt final was only making that worse. When Sonny felt powerless and helpless, it usually ended in disaster for all of them.

“Well?” Sonny barked as he faced the four of them behind his desk. “What’s the deal? What do we know?”

Because Johnny was scheduled to return to his normal post in Puerto Rico, he volunteered to come forward. He’d come up in the organization at the same time as Jason, but last year, Johnny had taken a promotion to look after Sonny’s Caribbean interests. Mostly to get away from the daily pressure of working with Sonny.

“Nothing,” Johnny said bluntly. “I talked to Roy DiLucca last night. He said Hector Ruiz agreed to pass information in exchange for a few favors—nothing I wouldn’t have done anyway,” he added quickly. “But I probably would have charged Hector more for some of the shipments. Between my contacts in Caracas and Hector’s connections in Bogotá, we have most of the region covered. If Ric Lansing makes a move, we’ll know it.”

“Didn’t Alcazar have connections in Argentina?” Sonny demanded. “What if Ric is there?”

“I’ve thought of that, Sonny,” Bernie told him. “I looked into the situation, and there’s a power vacuum in Argentina. Alcazar’s death threw his organization into turmoil, and another local boss died of natural causes. I made some overtures, but we don’t have a lot to offer.”

“Didn’t Alcazar have a brother?” Jason asked, knowing it was Sonny’s next question. “Where are we on Lorenzo Alcazar?”

“He’s still teaching literature at the university in Caracas,” Johnny told them. “He took custody of Luis’s kid, and doesn’t look like he’s in the business. If he wanted revenge, Jase, he’s pretty cold about it.”

“He’s been missing almost a week. How do we _not_ know where he is?” Sonny scowled. “Maybe he hasn’t left the country yet. Anyone else hiding him?”

“Taking in Lansing would be a suicide mission,” Jason said shortly. “It would be making a move against us, and getting into bed with Anthony Zacchara. No one is dumb enough to do both. Zacchara can’t be trusted, and we’ve got a track record of taking out anyone else who comes after us.”

Sonny frowned, placated by this reminder of his tenure in Port Charles, and how powerful he’d grown in the last decade. He sat down. Nodded. “Okay. Okay. Johnny, I want eyes and ears throughout South America. Anywhere Ric might go—do what you need to get it done.”

“On it. I gotta get going if I’m going to make the flight back. Good luck,” he said, eying Jason as he left.

“I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me,” Justus said, always slightly uncomfortable in these meetings where illegal things were discussed. He didn’t mind being their lawyer for the legal parts of the business, but he’d never enjoyed this part of the job. But when Sonny commanded attendance—

“Yeah, yeah.” Sonny waved him and Bernie away, leaving him alone with Jason. “We should have killed him months ago.”

“We can’t go back, Sonny. It doesn’t do us any good to wish things had been different—”

“If you’d let me take care of him in Crimson Pointe—”

“We’re not having this argument again,” Jason said flatly. “I made Elizabeth a promise—”

“It wasn’t _your_ place to promise anything,” Sonny retorted. “I’m in charge not you—”

“He went after Elizabeth because of me,” Jason snapped, really not in the mood for this again. “And this isn’t business. Ric didn’t target you because of that—”

“It’s always business! He used the business to come after me!”

“He used the business to get close to you,” Jason corrected. “He had a personal grudge, Sonny. No one—except maybe Zacchara—would have come at us the way Ric did. He went after our _family_. Carly, Elizabeth, Courtney—he tried to destroy the people who mattered. He never gave a damn about the warehouse or the shipments—he wanted to destroy _you_.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Sonny demanded. He stalked over to his mini bar and poured himself a bourbon, his hand trembling. “I let him live after Martha’s Vineyard. After what he did to Carly. To Courtney. If I had had the strength to do what was right, he _never_ would have been alive to go after my family. Or Elizabeth,” he added as an afterthought.

“But he did. I know you hate that you didn’t protect Carly. I didn’t do much better with Elizabeth.” Jason should have tried harder to get through to her, to make her understand who Ric was—

Or he should have been more honest with her a year ago when it would have mattered.

“Sonny, it doesn’t matter. _None_ of this matters—”

“No?” Sonny turned to face him. “Did you tell Elizabeth or Carly we’d bring Ric in alive? After all this?”

Jason hesitated. “I said we’d try.” Or that he would try. “I know you told Carly differently, and they both understand it might not be possible—”

“It’s not going to happen. I’ve given orders that he’s to be shot on sight. When we have confirmation,” Sonny continued, “when we know it’s him, he’s to be executed. No more pussyfooting around on this, Jase. When we find Ric Lansing, we’re going to finish this once and for all.”

**PCPD: Commissioner** **’s Office**

Marcus Taggert wasn’t having the best of days even before he met with Mac about his open cases. Two of his snitches had turned up as overdoses in a Courtland Street motel, and another witness was threatening to recant his testimony on a robbery.

So the last thing he really wanted to do was go to Mac’s office and tell him he didn’t have any leads into the disappearance of Ric Lansing.

“I’m not surprised,” Mac admitted. He taped a cardboard box closed and set it on the floor, next to two others. Taggert scowled.

“Why are you packing already? I thought you said your replacement isn’t starting until December 10. That’s a whole month—”

“I’m doing a little bit every day,” Mac said with a shrug. “I’ve been in this job for eight years. There’s a lot to go through.” He returned to his desk.

Taggert grimaced, then settled back in his chair. “Anyway,” he said. “I don’t know what to do about Lansing. None of the usual stuff is working, you know? I put a trace on his accounts, the APB is state-wide—best I can do. And nothing. He vanished into thin air.”

“The contact at the FBI called,” Mac told him. He dug through a pile on his desk and slid the memo over. “They’re having the same issues. They’ve had the Zaccharas under surveillance for the last year, and their guy didn’t see Ric leaving either.”

“This is just like Carly,” Taggert muttered. “They look for panic rooms? Hidden, secret pockets of space? If he made Carly vanish, he could try the same—”

“I thought of that and reminded the Crimson Pointe PD of the nature of the charges. They got a court order to see plans of the estate and brought in an expert. To the best of their knowledge, there isn’t any such place. Ric’s not on the estate.

Taggert sighed. He glanced at the report. “Says here the FBI can’t trace him out of the country either.”

“No. I asked Anna to make contact with Interpol to see if they could get something—and nothing. You’re right. This is exactly like last June.” Mac hesitated. “Have you considered that Corinthos and Morgan might have done something?”

Taggert pursed his lips, then nodded. “It’s on the list. But—” He sighed. “The thing is—and I know what this sounds like, Mac—I don’t think so. At first, I wondered. But Corinthos had Carly move back in—and for her to go back after all these weeks, she probably believes he’s alive.”

“Sonny could be lying.”

“He could,” Taggert allowed. He tossed the memo back on the desk. “But I got to know Morgan better through the Lansing and Esposito case. I still think he’s a criminal,” he clarified, “but on this Ric thing—I don’t know. Lansing survived to be let out on bail. He survived to get all the way here. There’s a reason.”

Mac nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Ned said the same thing the day after Lansing split. He thinks Corinthos and Morgan made a deal with their women—Lansing could go on trial, and they could testify. They were probably arranging an accident after the trial and sentencing.”

“You know if I could put this at their feet, I would, Mac. Just because I left Organized Crime doesn’t mean I haven’t forgotten who they are. I might not be able to get Morgan,” he said. “He doesn’t tend to commit crimes that aren’t related to the business. But Sonny—”

“Sonny has more of a checkered history,” Mac replied. “He’s committed more violent crimes for dumber reasons. You had some sort of connection with him, didn’t you? Back in New York?”

“I never met him personally,” Taggert told him. “But I knew his stepfather, Deke Woods. Deke was a good cop. Good guy.” His mouth tightened. “Sonny had him killed. Deke was trying to prove Sonny killed his own mother—used to kick the shit out of Deke once he got old enough. He got on the streets with Joe Scully and turned rotten.”

Mac squinted, then frowned. “I never heard this story about Sonny. That he killed his own mother—”

“I’m sure it was an accident. Or he hit her harder than he meant to. But this was the same guy who drugged and slept with Karen Wexler, remember?” Taggert reminded him. “Put her on those pills, and made her strip at his club. There were other girls at the Paradise we probably didn’t even know about. Then the crap he put Lily and Brenda through. He grew up, figured out how to control his temper, but he’s still the same violent piece of shit.”

He got to his feet. “That’s why I don’t work cases involving him anymore,” he told Mac. “Because I can’t be sure anymore if I’m biased. Maybe Sonny’s cleaned up his act, but anyone who could do that kind of thing once—he’ll always be capable of it. Morgan doesn’t have that in him.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say anything nice about Jason Morgan,” Mac said dryly.

“Yeah, well, Jason Morgan has literally _one_ good thing going for him right now—and that’s Elizabeth Webber.” He shrugged. “Morgan’s not going to show up in any of my cases, and I’m done with grudges. Life is too fucking short—”

The door banged open behind them as Scott Baldwin strode in, his face florid with fury. He was shaking a packet of paper in his hand. “Did you _see_ this bullshit?” he demanded.

“Uh—do we _look_ angry enough to have seen whatever it is?” Taggert asked.

“What’s wrong?” Mac asked.

Scott slapped the packet on Mac’s desk, and Taggert realized it was a legal motion. He squinted— “Is that from the U.S. Attorney’s Office?”

“Vinnie’s attorney,” Scott spat, “is arguing that his civil rights have been violated in Port Charles. That the PCPD is framing him, and the goddamn feds are _joining_ the petition—”

“On what grounds?” Taggert demanded. Mac shot out of his chair.

“The nature of the crimes,” Scott retorted, “and the recent PCPD scandals suggest Vinnie might have been unfairly targeted and framed to make the smoke go away—”

“We had a deal, Scott.” Mac scowled. “This was supposed to be over—”

“Yeah, well—” Scott nodded at the motion. “I’ll set them on fire. No way in _hell_ this gets taken from me—”

“Why would the U.S. Attorney’s office intercede on behalf of a serial rapist?” Taggert cut in. “What the hell could Vinnie have that they want?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Scott exhaled slowly. “I have to tell them.”

“What?” Taggert shook his head, knowing immediately who Scott was talking about. “ _No_. Why? You’re going to win—”

“Because the last thing I’m going to do to Elizabeth or Ned and Lois is let them hear this crap in the papers. And Elizabeth might be able to help me with the other survivors.” Scott shook his head. “Do you think I want to drag the three of them into my office? We just lost Ric Lansing—you think I want to tell that girl we might be losing the _other_ asshole who assaulted her this year?”

Scott glared at the legal motion. “After I win this—and I _will_ —I am going to salt the Earth with these motherfuckers. I am tired of these damned politicians pushing me around.”

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

Carly smiled as Michael dashed in and ran to hug her. “Mama, Mama, I got an A on my math test,” he told her with a toothy smile. He held out the test paper for her to see. “I can add stuff.”

“That makes one of us,” Carly quipped, kissing his cheek. She looked at her mother. “You didn’t have to pick him up. Rocco would have—”

“I wanted to. I’ve missed our drives home,” Bobbie said. She came over to them, ruffled Michael’s blond hair. “Go put that on the fridge, then start your homework.”

“Okay.”

Michael raced into the kitchen, then dragged his backpack to the stairs. When they heard his door close, Carly turned back to her mother with a lifted brow. “Well, I’m sure you sent him away for a reason.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” Bobbie said innocently. “Morgan napping?”

“Yeah, for another thirty minutes, maybe. Then he’ll want to be fed.” Carly leaned back against the sofa. “I’m fine, Mama. I had to come home sometime.”

“I don’t agree with you on that,” Bobbie remarked with a wrinkling of her nose. “But I wasn’t sure if things were…any tenser because of the reasons you came home.”

“Sonny isn’t in the best of moods,” Carly admitted. “But it’s hard to argue with it. He’s at the warehouse all day, trying to think of any way he can find Ric. And I don’t think they’re making any headway.”

“They’re not,” Bobbie said. She bent her head to look for her phone in her purse and missed Carly’s bewildered expression. “At least not the last time I talked to Elizabeth, so I was hoping you’d know more, but judging by the look on your face, you don’t. Carly, exactly what do you know about the search for Ric?”

“Only that it’s happening, I guess.” Carly cleared her throat. “I—I’ve been busy with Morgan, you know. He needs so much right now. And there’s Michael, of course. Plus, I’m not supposed to, but I’m trying to get caught on paperwork from the club—”

“Carly.”

“I asked once or twice,” Carly said. She met her mother’s eyes. “But Sonny told me not to ask about the business. And I haven’t. It never—I’m surprised Jason isn’t doing the same—” She stopped. “That’s not true,” she corrected, her voice quieter now. “Because Ric isn’t business for Jason. They might be using business methods to find him—but—”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I honestly hadn’t thought about it. I keep thinking it’s like before. Sonny trusted me last year because he had to—he knew I’d never forgive him if he faked his death, but Elizabeth didn’t need to know. It wasn’t about her. So I—I never thought it would be different.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Bobbie shifted, slightly uncomfortable. She looked away. “It might also be that Jason and Elizabeth just fell into different habits. When you were missing—Sonny wasn’t really here. Justus and Bernie had only just started working. There weren’t a lot of people Jason could trust with everything that was going on.”

“And he told Elizabeth everything, not Courtney,” Carly said with a nod. “Yeah, Courtney said it was—it was like he’d replaced her almost from the minute she called the police.” When her mother’s eyes flashed, Carly added, “Not that I agree with her. I think it was more that her phone call put Courtney on a list of people who couldn’t be trusted. And Elizabeth staying—believing in him—gave him a reason to trust her. I’m glad he had that, Mama. That he and Elizabeth have found something that works for them.”

“But?”

“But Sonny and I aren’t them. We’ve been together longer,” Carly reminded her. “And we’ve been through more. Talk to me in a couple of years when Jason and Elizabeth have been tested the way Sonny and I have.” She nodded, feeling more resolute in her words.

“Okay.” Bobbie lifted her brows, still skeptical. “So, I guess you’re treating this more like you’re back to stay.”

“I’m—” Carly hesitated. “I think so. Sonny said he’d try to do better, and he is. And he’s right. Things are different now. I wanted Ric to go to trial, which can’t happen now. Not unless the authorities catch Ric.” She hesitated. “I can’t have my way in this, Mama.”

Bobbie pursed her lips, then got to her feet. “Well, you know I’ll support whatever you choose. I’ll go check on Michael, make sure he’s getting his homework done.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Felicia smiled brightly at her eldest daughter as she sat across the table from her, tossing her purse on one of the other empty chairs. “How’s school?”

Maxie Jones peered her at her suspiciously, narrowing her brilliant blue eyes. “Fine. I’m not failing yet, which is good since we’re going into midterms.” She arched a brow. “Is there a reason you insisted on making me meet you for dinner tonight? Because, like, I have a _thousand_ things I could be doing—”

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, and since you live on campus, I didn’t think you’d want me harassing you in your dorm.” Felicia picked up a menu, smiled innocently at her. “Unless you want me to come by—”

“No, this is fine.” Maxie sipped her water, then leaned back with a wince. “Oh, Penny’s working tonight. Well, we’ll be here a while.”

“How’s Kyle? Have you talked to him much?”

“We try to call every day,” Maxie told her, with a shrug of her shoulder. “And email. He’s got crazy midterms right now, so…” She leaned forward. “Mom. You don’t like Kyle.”

“I don’t think you should be in a long-distance relationship at your age,” Felicia corrected. “Kyle doesn’t bother me. He seems like a nice kid. He’s just too far away—” She shook her head. “Never mind. Do you see Georgie on campus much?”

“ _Here_ we go.” Maxie rolled her eyes. “Are you mad because I’m not spending all my free time teaching Georgie how to be popular? Look, she was a nerd in high school, and she’s a disaster in college— _she_ decided to live at home—”

“Mariah Maximilliana.”

Maxie pursed her lips. “You’re _mad_ at me? Seriously? _She_ _’s_ the idiot who took Mac’s side—”

“You remember your father,” Felicia said softly. “She doesn’t. Mac is the only father she’s ever known.” And if her chest was tight at the reminder that Frisco had chosen the WSB over them so easily—she just put it away.

Maxie hesitated. “I just—I don’t _understand_ how she can forget what happened—”

“She didn’t. Maxie, you know better than that. Mac took a lot of heat for this case—some of which was well-deserved,” Felicia added.

“Some?”

“At the end of the day, the only thing he didn’t do was send Elizabeth’s rape kit to the lab. That’s it. How would that have stopped what happened?”

“I—” Maxie hesitated. “They would have known—”

“None of the other cases were tested either. Because there was no suspect. That was departmental policy, and that’s not something Mac could change without financial and political support,” Felicia told her gently. “Knowing five years ago that Tom Baker was not guilty would have done exactly nothing to help Brooke Lynn.”

Maxie’s lip trembled. “I should have done more.”

“Maxie—”

“It’s my fault. Kyle and Lucas were arguing at the theater, and they got us kicked out. A-and we were all fighting—I was terrible and mean to Dillon, so he and I got into a fight—then Brooke left, and none of us noticed—”

A tear slid down her cheek, then another. “Mac told us not to go to the park at night. But we never told Brooke. We never thought about it. That’s all I could think—I was driving me and Georgie around—and we just—we just kept worrying because why would Mac say that—”

“Sweetheart—”

“Georgie noticed she was gone, Mom. Not me. Not Lucas. Not Dillon or Kyle. Georgie. We were all selfish and stupid, and I just—” She stared at her hands. “Maybe that’s why she could let it go better. Georgie was nicer to Brooke than we were. She was the reason we found her so quickly—because she noticed her.”

“It _wasn_ _’t_ your fault.”

“When Georgie stood by Mac—it just felt like a punch to the gut. It was so clear that he’d been wrong—but I don’t know—” Maxie looked away. “Maybe we’ve been too hard on her. I mean, Dillon—that’s fine. He was Brooke’s family. And her boyfriend. He probably had a right to expect her to be more supportive or whatever. But Lucas and I could have been nicer. Especially since this is her first year.”

“What about Lulu?”

“Oh—well, that’s just complicated because of Dillon,” Maxie said with a shrug. “Lu just took his side because she’s loyal like that.” She met her mother’s eyes. “Is Georgie okay? Is that why you brought it up?”

“She’s struggling a bit,” Felicia admitted. “It might be nice if you gave her a break. Your friends can do whatever they want, but you’re her sister.”

“I’ll talk to her, Mom,” Maxie promised. “And I’ll talk to Lucas and Lu about it.”

**Spencer House: Living Room**

Kelsey really should have given Lucky more credit about knowing his family. She’d been ridiculously worried that she wouldn’t measure up to his last serious girlfriend. Kelsey liked Elizabeth Webber and understood why she’d been well-liked not only by the Spencers but apparently the entire city since she’d single-handedly kicked Vinnie Esposito’s ass and saved herself.

But she’d been apprehensive that Laura Spencer might still want that girl for her son—that no one would ever really be able to replace her.

She shouldn’t have stressed herself out.

Laura was perfectly lovely—friendly, warm, and interested in everything Kelsey had to say. And Lucky’s father, the enigmatic Luke Spencer, had just looked so damn happy to have his wife home and herself again, that Kelsey could have been a stranger on the street, and Luke wouldn’t have cared.

“It’s so wonderful to see Ollie’s daughter, all grown up,” Laura told Kelsey as Lucky and Lulu cleared the dining room table. “I didn’t know your mother—he married after I—well, after we lost touch,” she said. Kelsey knew her parents hadn’t married until after Laura had mysteriously disappeared—kidnapped and held hostage in Greece by Nikolas’s family.

Port Charles was absolutely wild.

“It’s nice to know someone who remembers Dad. I mean, he grew up here and worked here until he died, but—” Kelsey sighed. “Scott doesn’t like to talk about him much.”

“It’s probably painful,” Laura told her. She reached over to squeeze her hand. “He and Ollie were like brothers from the day I met them. He’d be so proud of you, working at the DA’s office. I hadn’t heard that he died, but things were so crazy when we first moved back, I must have missed it.”

“Oh, well, it was just a car accident,” Kelsey replied. She hesitated when Luke frowned at her, then squinted his eyes. “June 1994,” she clarified. “I think Lucky said you’d only been back a few months, and I can’t imagine a car accident got a lot of newspaper coverage.”

“Car accident,” Luke repeated. “Uh, no, I guess not. Sorry to hear about it. I remember him a little, too,” he added. “Everyone in Port Charles runs into each other eventually.”

“How do you like working at the DA’s office?” Laura asked, drawing Kelsey’s attention away from Luke.

“Um, that’s a hard question to answer,” she admitted. She caught Lucky’s eye. “It’s not boring,” she said finally.

“Kelsey was injured in the Esposito case,” Nikolas told his mother as he set a cup of tea in front of her, then took a seat again. “She and Lucky had broken the case wide open, and Vinnie Esposito found out. He shoved her down the stairs to keep her from getting a warrant for his DNA.”

Laura’s eyes widened, and she looked at Kelsey. “I didn’t realize! I’m so sorry—”

“It’s really okay, and Lucky’s the one that figured it out. I just looked at some databases. Actually,” Kelsey said, looking at her boyfriend. “It was kind of crazy. We all solved it at once. Taggert and Jason had gone to Pentonville to interview Tom Baker—”

Luke held up a hand. “I’m sorry. Rewind that statement. _Who_ went _where_?”

Kelsey laughed. “Yeah, that was the attitude at the PCPD, too, but Taggert figured Baker might be intimidated by Jason and finally come clean about what he knew. That was the same time Lucky got the receipts from Bobbie and remembered Vinnie being her regular.”

“Yeah, well, _none_ of it was in time to stop him from nearly killing you and going after Elizabeth,” Lucky muttered. Kelsey put her hand over his, squeezing it lightly. He’d blamed himself for not remembering more of his past with Elizabeth sooner. The brainwashing that had erased his feelings for Elizabeth had left his memory looking like Swiss Cheese. He hadn’t remembered about Vinnie until it was almost too late.

"I’m okay,” she reminded him. “And that was his big mistake, remember? If he hadn’t gone after me, you wouldn’t have known to call Elizabeth. Or alert Taggert and Jason about her not picking up the phone. Elizabeth is okay.”

“Still.”

“Sounds like you did good work, Cowboy. My boy, showing up the PCPD his first few months on the job.” Luke pointed his fork at Lucky. “They should let you run the place.”

“Says the man who _literally_ threw a hissy fit when Lucky applied to the academy,” Lulu offered with a snort. She handed Kelsey a slice of cheesecake. “Mom comes home, decides it’s the best thing that ever happened to Lucky, and Dad falls right in line.”

“Well, I know it hurts Luke’s soul to remember this, but other than a handful of times, he was usually on the side of good.” Laura arched her brow. “Or was it someone else who saved the world from Mikkos Cassadine?”

“I blame Robert for that. And you.” Luke grinned at her. “I’m useless without you.”

“Agreed,” Nikolas said with a grin.

“Watch it, Dark Prince.”

Laura rolled her eyes, but her joy in having her entire family at her table—all three of her children and her husband—was evident in her smile. “Well, I’m proud of Lucky for finding his passion.”

“He really is great at it,” Kelsey told her. She flashed Lucky her own proud smile. “He and some of the rookies who started with him are being fast-tracked to detective. For the Lansing and Esposito cases.”

“I didn’t do much for the Lansing case,” Lucky told his parents. “That was Cruz. I mean, we all patrolled the house to make sure Elizabeth was safe.” He saw Nikolas’s grimace. “Yeah, we didn’t manage that, but at least Cruz was there when she got sick.”

“It sounds like it’s been quite the year in Port Charles,” Laura said. Her smile dimmed slightly, then she took a deep breath. “I’m just glad my family is safe and happy.”

Lucky and Kelsey stayed another hour, lingering over coffee and cheesecake, but then Luke and Laura walked them to their car while Lulu and Nikolas argued over what to watch on television back at the house.

Laura watched Lucky back out of the driveway and sighed, folding her arms tightly around herself. Luke slipped an arm around her waist. “What do you think, Darlin’?”

“About Kelsey? She seems lovely. Can’t believe she’s Ollie’s little girl. I haven’t thought about him in decades. And it’s nice to see that she’s as proud of Lucky as he is of her. But mostly—he looks like our boy again.” She looked up at him. “You know? I almost feel like I was…that I was looking at the boy he would have grown up to be if Helena hadn’t stolen him.”

“He does seem more comfortable than he did when I left,” Luke admitted. “Can’t believe being a cop was an answer. Goes against everything I believe in—”

“When they were growing up, you always said Lu was mine, and that Lucky was yours. I agreed with you. But—now—” Laura smiled. “Now he reminds me of myself. And Lu—” She heard Lulu screech something at Nikolas. “That is definitely _your_ child.”

“Let’s just hope she doesn’t make my mistakes,” Luke quipped as they went back inside.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to go back to school next year,” Elizabeth said, as she dug into her dinner that night. She poked at her Chinese food with her chopsticks and looked at Jason. “I mean, if it’s okay with you. You haven’t said much—”

Jason frowned, leaned back against the sofa, stretching his arm along the back. “In the ten minutes since you told me you’d decided to do it? I told you. Whatever you want—”

“Yeah, but I’m contemplating going back to school—graduate school—when we’ll have a six-month-old baby,” Elizabeth reminded him. “I mean, maybe that’s crazy to think about—”

“Why?” Jason shook his head. “A lot of women go back to work earlier than that. And I’ll be here.” He hesitated. “I don’t have a regular schedule, but I could make it work. And when we can’t, I don’t know, we could hire a nanny—” He paused when he saw her wince. “What?”

“I don’t know. I guess it's fine for Carly. And I know Monica had a nanny for you guys growing up. But it feels strange to hire someone to take care of my baby, so I can go to classes. I could wait until the baby’s old enough to go to school—”

“You’d wait three or four years?” Jason shook his head. “No. I mean, if that’s what you want to do, then fine. But we could make it work, Elizabeth. If you don’t want to hire someone full-time, maybe we could just find baby-sitters. People like you.”

“Maybe.” Her excitement slightly dimmed as reality set in. “I was always terrible at school. I’ll probably just fail—”

“Hey.” Jason put his container on the table and leaned forward to take her chin in his hand. Waited until she met his gaze. “What are you doing right now?”

She smiled faintly. “Writing out a terrible ending to a story I didn’t even start yet.” She sighed. “Crazy. I thought I was past that, but every time I take on something new, there I go—raining on my own parade.”

“You weren’t a great student, we’ll have a baby—what other obstacles are you going to throw in front of this?” Jason asked her softly. “I know it’s scary. It’s one thing to volunteer at some meetings—you can always step back. But this would be different.”

“Three years of graduate school,” Elizabeth told him. “And then an internship. And then they’d give me _real_ patients to talk to. It’s—I’m so messed up. Why do I think I can do this?”

“Your meeting last week—with the other survivors. You didn’t think you could do that either,” Jason said. “But how did that go?”

“Really well.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “One of the women sent me an email and said she slept through the night over the weekend. For the first since it happened. She thanked me. She thinks coming to the group will really help.” She took a deep breath. “It really helped me, too, you know. When I was raped. I was scared when Gail suggested it, but she was right. She knew I had to see I wasn’t alone. That I would benefit from talking with other women who’d been through it. Even better—it would help to see women who were on the other side of it.”

She met his eyes. “The first meeting, afterward, I didn’t have a nightmare. I mean—I still had them, but there were less after the meeting. And that first night—I slept the whole night.”

“Why did Gail think you’d be good at this?” Jason asked, and she smiled at him, knowing what he was doing and loving him for it.

“Because I’d been where a lot of these women are, and I could be someone to give them hope. One of them—one of the cases from this year—when she found out I was pregnant, she told me it made her think that maybe she might have a future.” Elizabeth rested her hand on her abdomen, over the slight curve of her belly. “I remember asking Bobbie how I could ever trust someone to touch me, and she told me that there’d come a day when I’d be okay.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “And I’m glad it was Lucky. For all the pain we caused each other, we really did love each other once. But—that’s not when I knew I’d be okay,” she told him. He tipped his head. “I always trusted Lucky. You know? Because of the way he found me. But I didn’t trust anyone else. Not even Nikolas. Not really. But in my studio, when I had to take care of you—”

She paused for a second, gathering her thoughts. “I could see how strong you were—I mean, I knew it—I’d seen it when you took that guy to the ground at Jake’s with just one arm—but in the studio, I realized that I’d never been afraid of you. That I never _ever_ thought you’d use that strength against me.”

She slid over until she was next to him, and Jason put his arm around her shoulders, curling her into his side.

“You were the first man I trusted physically. And I knew then that I’d be okay. I didn’t really believe it until then.”

“And that’s why Gail wants you to get your license,” Jason told her quietly. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Because you care. And you know what they’re going through. You understand people, Elizabeth. And you know how to help them. You talk about that fall like you’re the only one who got anything out of our friendship—”

“Well, I know I saved your life,” Elizabeth teased, tipping her head up to him.

“You did,” Jason told her. “But you did that before December. I told you. I had nothing. And then you came into my life.” He traced his fingers down her cheek. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it. To admit it. But I love you, and there’s nothing you can’t do. If counseling is something you really want to do, I’ll make it happen. No matter what it takes.”

Elizabeth tipped her head up and kissed him, sliding her hand to rest at the nape of his neck. She leaned back, drawing him over her, sinking into the cushions.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table just as Elizabeth pulled his shirt out of his jeans. She sighed, turning her head towards it. “Ignore it,” she murmured.

Jason might have—except his eagle eye had seen the caller ID flash on the tiny screen. He sat up abruptly. “It’s Baldwin—”

Flushed, Elizabeth sat up as well, reaching for her phone. “Maybe they found Ric?” she asked, her eyes glimmering with hope. “Maybe it’s over.”

“Answer it—”

She flipped it open and put it to her ear. “Scott—no, don’t worry about it. It’s not that late—oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, um—” She dagged a hand through her hair, still a bit disoriented. “Yeah, tomorrow is fine. Nine? Okay.”

Her face had paled slightly as Elizabeth looked at Jason. “It’s not about Ric. Scott wants to meet with me, Ned, and Lois tomorrow.”

“Ned and Lois?” Jason repeated. He frowned. “But—”

“He said it’s about Vinnie’s case. There’s, ah, a hearing scheduled before he can be sentenced.” She took a deep breath. “It sounds—it sounds like there’s a chance his case might get dismissed.”


	4. Chapter Fifty-Four

_Open your eyes_  
 _And look outside_  
 _Find the reasons why_  
 _You've been rejected_  
 _And now you can't find_  
 _What you left behind_  
 _Be strong, be strong now_  
 _Too many, too many problems_  
 _Don't know where she belongs_  
 _Where she belongs_  
\- Nobody’s Home, Avril Lavigne

* * *

_Tuesday, November 11, 2003_

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

When Sonny strode out from the kitchen after cleaning up breakfast, he found Carly seated at his desk, the phone at her ear, and a pen in her hand.

“I’m sorry, Jen, but I’m not okay with that cost—no, you tell David Harris that we can buy our liquor from a thousand people. If he wants our business, he’s not raising our prices. Not right before the holiday season—”

Carly smiled at him, but she was distracted, turned away from him. Sonny frowned and went over to pour himself another cup of coffee from the pitcher they’d left warming on the side table.

“Okay. Let me know. Don’t worry—this won’t be your job much longer. I’ll be back before you know it. Yeah, okay—see you later.” Carly hung up the phone and crossed over to him, gracing him with a looser smile than he’d seen in a few days. She poured herself the last of the orange juice and joined him at the table. “Sorry. I guess I can’t turn off work.”

“I thought you’d turned The Cellar over to a manager while you were out on maternity leave,” Sonny said. He furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you taking a few months?”

“Oh, no. That’s the best thing about being my own boss,” Carly told him. “I get to pick my hours. Morgan can nap in my office while I work, and I can build my schedule around him. At least for the first few months, and Leticia will take over whenever—” Her smile faded. “You don’t look happy.”

“I—” Sonny shrugged lightly. “No, I guess I just didn’t think about you going back to work. You don’t have to—”

“I like the club,” Carly said with a frown. “You know, with Jax taking a sabbatical from his company to work with Ned in the mayor’s office, he offered to sell me Club 101.”

“You don’t have the funds to do that,” Sonny said shortly, his shoulders tensing at the suggestion of his wife doing business with Jasper Jacks.

Carly exhaled slowly. “I guess I don’t have the cash on hand to do it outright,” she murmured. “But The Cellar is doing really well. I can easily get a business loan, and I’m sure Jax will work something out. He only pushed me out of the club when we got back together. He didn’t want to be in business with you.”

“And that’s changed?” Sonny demanded.

“No,” Carly drawled. “But he’s seen what I’ve done at The Cellar, and he’s impressed by how I launched it. We draw an older crowd there, and 101 is more for younger—” She sat back. “Sonny, just say it. You don’t want me to work.”

“Don’t say it like that. I’ve _always_ supported you,” Sonny said, but Carly shook her head.

“No, you liked it when I asked you for things. You forced Laura to let me into Deception, and you gave me the money for The Cellar. I did the work, but I know the backing came from you. Is it just that you don’t like that I’m doing well at it?” She squinted at him. “That maybe I could do Club 101 on my own? Without you?”

“No. I just—” Sonny grimaced. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you’d be going back to work already. Morgan’s barely a week old—”

“You went back to work the next day,” Carly said softly. She focused on him. “I like my job, Sonny. I’m good at it. And I’m happy to be more than a wife and mother. I never thought I’d be good at something like this.”

“I’m glad, but—you should just—” Sonny shook his head. “You should stop hanging out with Elizabeth,” he muttered.

Carly did a double take, widening her eyes. “What—What are you even talking about? Elizabeth and I don’t hang out—and she’s not even working right now—”

“She’s volunteering at the hospital,” Sonny told her. “Jason told me she’s planning to do that right up until she has the baby—and then she’s going to school to get better at it.” He shook his head. “And you—Morgan barely knows who you are and you want to leave him with a nanny—”

“Ah.” Carly smiled at him—a sickly, sweet smile. “You didn’t mind giving me a little help to go to work, so I wouldn’t irritate you at home. Michael was at school already, and you wanted to keep me out of trouble. But now that I have an infant, I need to be occupied all the damn time.” She jerked out of her seat and stalked away towards the kitchen. “I never knew you were so damn sexist—”

“I’m not sexist. Women can do whatever the hell they want,” Sonny retorted as he followed her. He arrived in the kitchen just as she tossed the rest of the orange juice down the drain. “All I said was you didn’t _have_ to work—”

“And then got angry because I said I _wanted_ to. In fact, Sonny, Morgan’s birth was so relatively easy that I could go back in another week,” Carly tossed back at him. “I never thought you’d be like this—”

“You can’t go back to work until we find Ric.”

Carly stared at him for a long moment, then closed her eyes. Then she looked at him, her hand braced on the counter. “Speaking of Ric, how is that going? You haven’t said.”

“We haven’t found him. That’s all you need to know.”

Clearly, that was the wrong answer because his wife just stared at him, her lips pursed. “What?” Sonny demanded defensively. “I’m sorry. We’re doing the best we can—”

“Don’t bother. I’ll just ask Elizabeth,” Carly snarled. She shoved past him. “I can’t believe nothing has changed—”

“What does that mean, you’ll ask Elizabeth?” Sonny followed her as she stalked towards the stairs. “She doesn’t know anything either!”

Carly stopped on the landing, whirling around to glare daggers at him. “She knows more than I do. Because Jason respects her. He tells her things—and I bet when she told him that she wanted to go back to work, he just asked what the hell he could do to help!”

Sonny’s scowl deepened as he charged up the stairs at her, catching her just before entering the master bedroom. “We’re not Jason and Elizabeth,” he retorted.

She glared at him from just over the threshold. “No shit.”

Then she slammed the door.

**Municipal Building: Scott** **’s Office**

For the second time in as many weeks, Elizabeth allowed Scott to usher her into his office, where Ned and Lois were waiting.

Lois’s mouth tightened when she saw Elizabeth. “Oh, it’s bad news, isn’t it?” she murmured, looking at Scott. “You never would have asked Elizabeth to come in if it wasn’t.”

“Uh, it’s not that it’s bad news,” Scott said. He gestured for them to take a seat. “It’s just that it’s surprising news—”

“Unless you’re telling someone shanked the bastard in prison, everything else is bad news,” Ned bit out as he pulled out chairs for Lois and Elizabeth. He sat on the other side of the conference table. “Don’t try to sugar coat this, Scott. What’s going on?”

“It seems Vinnie’s lawyer has been playing a few cards we didn’t see coming,” Scott admitted. “Heed the U.S. Attorney’s office in Syracuse asking them to support a petition to the federal court. He’s arguing that the PCPD violated his civil rights by framing him—the way Mac framed Tom Baker with the false lab report.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, looked at Lois, then at Scott. “I don’t understand. Vinnie—you said he made a deal—this was over. He just needed to be sentenced—”

“That was the situation in October when this all went down,” Scott told them. “I didn’t expect it to change. With the attack on Elizabeth and the DNA results, I honestly thought we’d closed the book on him.”

“But you seem worried,” Lois murmured, her eyes filled with worry. Without thinking, she reached next to her to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand. They exchanged a tense look—the horror of Vinnie beating these charges was almost too much for either of them to bear.

“The evidence is still there, isn’t it? The DNA tests—my testimony,” Elizabeth said. “Why do you think making this a federal case will be a problem?”

“Because I think there’s a reason Syracuse is interested in this,” Scott told them. “Otherwise, there’s no point in getting involved with a serial rapist case with evidence like ours. The feds are looking to prove they take allegations of police abuse seriously.”

“And that might be enough for them to screw over six women?” Ned demanded. “Six victims, Scott!”

“Nine,” Elizabeth corrected softly. “Three more in Buffalo. Lucky told me those DNA results came back positive for DNA. And God knows how many others.” She took a deep breath as the others focused on her. “I’ve been thinking about it—about the gaps in the original attacks. The ones that began with me in 1998. I can’t believe he’d wait a year.”

Ned frowned her, then exhaled on a swear. “That fall with the Baker trial. You had contact with the PCPD.”

“Not even just that fall,” Elizabeth said. “If you’re right, and Vinnie was triggered to attack someone when I was at the PCPD—I had a lot of involvement that first year. My first report—when Lucky and I were dragged in for being runaways before the Tom Baker case. All of that was before the garage fire.”

“How many women might never have reported?” Lois said. “It’s horrible to think about.”

“Those long gaps only make sense if they never came forward. That’s—” She looked at Scott. “That’s one of the reasons I started the support group. I put an ad in the paper, and I did an interview on the news about it. I wanted to see if anyone would come forward.”

“Have they?” Scott asked, dreading her answer.

“Not yet, but we’ve only met once,” Elizabeth said. “But Ned’s point is true. Everyone knows if he raped nine women, he might as well have raped double that. What could he possibly offer that would get him a deal?”

“I don’t know,” Scott said. “I’m still trying to find out. It’s possible we might not know that unless the judge agrees the PCPD violated Vinnie’s civil rights. They could just order a change of venue—” Scott hesitated. “The judge could throw the entire case out. I’d like to say it’s not going to happen, but—”

“But the PCPD _does_ have a history of falsifying evidence and burying cases,” Ned muttered. “And the Lansing case didn’t help matters. Well, I’ve already fired Mac. There’s nothing else I can do.”

“So we need to convince the judge Vinnie wasn’t framed,” Elizabeth said. She took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s make that happen. How does the hearing work? Do you—do you just make arguments? Can you present witnesses?”

“It’s a preliminary hearing. _His_ lawyer has to prove malfeasance. I’m sure Mac will be getting a subpoena any day now. Floyd as well,” Scott added.

“Then I’ll testify there,” Elizabeth said. Her smile was thin. “And the DNA evidence—Taggert said he sent that to an FBI lab for more advanced testing. That was why it took so long to come back in the first place. But if it’s my case and the lab report—” She closed her eyes. “You can drop my rape case. Go ahead with one of the other women.”

“No,” Ned snapped. He slapped his hand on the table. “Damn it. _No_. You are not sacrificing Elizabeth again,” he told Scott sharply.

“Ned,” Lois said softly. “Elizabeth might have a point. If this whole ploy is predicated on what Mac did with her rape kit—”

“I don’t care! She shouldn’t have to pay for this—haven’t _we_ paid enough?” Ned demanded, his eyes burning into hers.

“Ned, it’s more important that we get justice for all of us,” Elizabeth told him. She reached across the table to put her hands around his fist before he could slam the table again. “Brooke can’t fight. I can. I’m okay as long as he goes to jail—”

“I appreciate that, Elizabeth,” Scott said, his voice oddly thick. He cleared his throat. “But that’s not—I agree with Ned. I’m not going to ask you to sacrifice yourself the way Mac and Floyd did. Tom Baker went to jail for blackmail because that was the easier case to prosecute. I’m aware that they might throw out your DNA results as an alternative to letting Vinnie go entirely. But that will be up to a _court_ to decide.”

Elizabeth exhaled and leaned back. “Scott—”

“What I’m worried about is Taggert going on the stand to talk about what happened in Pentonville,” Scott admitted.

“Because Jason went with him,” Elizabeth said, “I—I can understand how that might affect things, make his statement look coerced—”

“I okayed it,” Scott stressed. “I knew there was a chance it might come back to bite us, but we needed to find out what Baker knew. I could call Baker in rebuttal—he’s being released on parole next month—”

“Call Lucky,” Lois suggested. “He broke the case at the same time. You can save Taggert for the trial here, if it ends up coming to that. But Lucky came to the same results. Kelsey was on her way to get a warrant, wasn’t she?”

Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can, but he’s a rookie, and Taggert led the case. There might be a suggestion that Baker was lying—that’s what I mean about falsifying evidence. Coercing a confession—”

“Then call Baker to testify about the conversation,” Elizabeth said, desperation clawing at her. “Scott—”

“It will still come up,” Ned told her. “And knowing Jason—” The corner of his mouth lifted. “It might not be the _only_ trip he made to Pentonville.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said to Scott, tears stinging her eyes. “I should have—I should have thought about it—”

Lois shook her head. “No, no, sweetheart.” She put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Don’t you doubt yourself. Or Jason. Taggert came to _you_ with this idea, not the other way around. And Scott said it himself—he wanted to get a lead. It was worth it—”

“Was it?” Elizabeth demanded. “If we can’t prove that Vinnie did it—if they throw out the DNA evidence—if Taggert can’t testify without getting him or Jason into trouble—”

Scott cleared his throat to get her attention. “Taggert doesn’t care about that,” he told her. “He said he’d take whatever came his way. And I’m sure we could figure out a way to downplay it. I just—” He shifted, uncomfortable. “If Vinnie’s lawyer subpoenas Jason, I might not be able to protect him.” His expression was slightly sour as he continued. “Here, in Port Charles, I could give him immunity—”

Elizabeth emitted a startled laugh, pressing her fingers to her lips. “I’m sorry. I just—I’m sorry. This is all just _ridiculous_.” She pressed her hands to her eyes, took a deep breath.

“Scott, what exactly is the end game here?” Ned asked. “You’re painting a pretty dark picture—”

“No, what I’m explaining is that—” Scott grimaced. “I’m not going to call Taggert. The defense will expect me to, and he’ll be on my list of witnesses. So will Jason and Mac. Just to cover my bases. I’ll give him a list that might keep him from issuing his own subpoenas.”

“And then you won’t call them,” Ned nodded, realization dawning.

“Because I’ll be testifying first,” Elizabeth said. “You’re—you’re telling me _that_ _’s_ the game plan. That—that my testimony will hopefully be enough to convince Vinnie’s attorney not to call anyone else other than maybe Mac and Floyd.”

“Yes,” Scott admitted. “I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on you, Elizabeth. Maybe too much. And believe me, Bobbie has made that very clear to me when we’ve talked about your testimony. I don’t want to do anything that might hurt you.”

Ned frowned, looked at Elizabeth. “Is everything okay? What’s—”

“No one said anything about you being sick,” Lois cut in. “Edward would have—”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth assured them both. “I had an appointment last week, and the baby and I are fine. Scott’s just worried about my blood pressure because of blood clots and the embolism in my medical history. Thank you,” she told him. “I appreciate your concern. But you’re right. The best chance at keeping all of that out of the hearing is for my testimony to close the door. To preview what testimony I might give in a trial.”

“I have no doubt you’ll hit it out of the park, I just—I don’t like the situation it’s put you in.”

“I don’t either,” Elizabeth admitted. “But you still have the DNA evidence—and the lab tech can testify to that.” She smiled at him. “Let me take care of the rest. I won’t let you down.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

“Good, you’re both already here.”

Maxie dumped her purse on the counter, climbed up on the stool, and looked at Lucas and Lulu intently. “We need to do some damage control.”

Lulu winced. She picked up a container of salt and refilled one of the shakers while Lucas just closed his eyes. “Oh, man,” Lucas muttered. “What did you do? Was it illegal? Because if we need to hide a body or something—”

Maxie glared at them. “How _dare_ you suggest that when I say damage control, I mean about something _I_ did! Why does everyone treat me like I’m a walking disaster?”

“Uh—” Lulu widened her eyes. “Life. _Life_ is why. You remember when the Maximum Maxie thing hit the web? Deenie made a smart remark, and you tried to shove her off the porch—”

“It wasn’t that far off the ground,” Maxie said with a sniff.

“Oh, remember when you and Georgie snuck out of the Halloween Party last year?” Lucas asked. “You got kidnapped by Luis Alcazar—”

“ _Not_ my fault—”

“Oh, yeah, and then at my birthday party the year I turned twelve,” Lulu said, “you pulled Deenie’s hair, and when she told on you, you put laxatives in her milkshake—” She frowned. “Do you _really_ not like Deenie or something?”

“Listen,” Maxie said testily. “This is—”

“ _Or_ that time she had a crush on your brother,” Lucas continued with his eyes sparkling. “And she flattened her own tire when she thought he’d be driving past that part of the road—”

Lulu squealed with laughter. “Oh my God! And she ended up stuck up at Vista Point overnight!”

“If you keep going,” Maxie said, tightly, “I _am_ going to need to hide a body. Two of them—”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just once we start talking about your greatest hits, we get carried away,” Lulu said without an ounce of regret.

“We _could_ talk about the time you thought you saw Paul Walker get on a bus, and you and Georgie accidentally ended up in St. Paul,” Maxie said with a lift of her brows. “Or how about the time you shoved Deenie’s little sister in the sandbox, and then rubbed sand in her face until she almost choked—”

“Their entire family had it coming,” Lulu muttered. “And thanks, by the way, for helping me and Lucas get home from St. Paul without Mom and Aunt Bobbie finding out. Okay, okay. What’s the damage control?”

“Georgie,” Maxie said. “Mom said she’s not doing great.”

Lucas wrinkled his nose. “This sounds like a girl thing—”

Maxie grabbed his elbow before he could dance away. “Uh — not so fast, buddy. You can help us. Look, what happened last summer—” She focused on Lucas. “It was rough on all of us. But Georgie really _did_ like Brooke by the end of it. You and Georgie were closer to her—other than Dillon. And then Georgie did something we didn’t like, and we cut her off.”

She looked at Lulu, who sighed. “And I started dating her boyfriend,” Lulu said with a nod. “Yeah. I know. Look, if it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure it’s not true love—”

“What would make me feel better is if none of it ever happened,” Maxie cut in. “But that’s not an option. I guess—I mean, I can’t tell Dillon what to think about any of it. But the three of us— _we_ can be nicer. And Felix and Kyle will do what we tell them to do,” she told Lucas.

“Now that the election is over and Vinnie is in jail…it does seem pointless to keep this going,” Lucas admitted. “Let’s just—the next time we see her—let’s just relax and maybe give her a chance to put it behind us. She’s working later, right?” he asked Lulu.

“Yeah, she’s taking over for Penny at four.”

“I’ll call Felix, ask him to come over after class. Maxie, you stick around. We’ll make it a point to be friendly. Let her know that we can just—we can move on. We might disagree on what happened, but it’s over. And she’s still my cousin,” Lucas said.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She looked at Lulu. “And if Deenie does comes in here, do you know where Bobbie keeps the laxatives? I still _really_ hate her.”

**PCPD: Squad Room**

“This is some Grade A _bullshit_ ,” Lucky declared, leaning forward at his desk. He scowled at Taggert, then at Mac. “How can the feds screw us like this?”

Across from him, Dante struggled to absorb the news the commissioner and his lieutenant had just given them—

And the sinking feeling that _he_ might have a way out of this.

“I’m sorry,” Mac said, his face deeply lined in shame. “I never—I never thought what I did—that it would come back like this.”

“It shouldn’t, though,” Cruz said, wrinkling his nose in confusion. “We didn’t falsify evidence in her case—I mean, yeah, there’s that lab report, but it never got entered into evidence. And it wasn’t actually run by a lab. The dress wasn’t contaminated. And—” He hesitated. “Well, I’m sorry, Commissioner, but you’ve been fired and admitted to what you did. How can it be _this_ bad?”

“Apparently, the brief isn’t just using what Mac did—” Taggert shot Mac an irritated look. “But also what happened over the summer. There’s a suggestion that because the PCPD screwed up the Lansing case so badly, that we reopened Elizabeth’s rape to get out of a lawsuit—”

“That we solved her rape case to keep her from suing us?” Lucky huffed. “That is the _dumbest_ shit—”

“She wasn’t going to sue,” Dante said, finally. “Was she? I mean—was that a _real_ threat?”

“While her lawyer might have advised it, I doubt Elizabeth ever seriously considered it. But it gives us motive. Because I’m not sure I’d be able to say honestly that it _wasn_ _’t_ fuel for me to push with this case once I knew hers was connected.”

“Not to mention Lucky working the case,” Mac said. “His connection to Elizabeth was invaluable, but it might also be given the flavor of bias—”

“But it doesn’t make any _sense_ ,” Cruz insisted. “There’s DNA evidence in all the other cases, too. Vinnie was _literally_ arrested attacking Elizabeth—”

“His story was initially that she flipped out and attacked him—that she was jumpy with everything that had happened to her and the case being reopened,” Taggert said. “I’m not saying this isn’t all stupid and insane, I’m just telling you what Baldwin is telling me. The system doesn’t always work the way we want it to.”

“Yeah, like a court giving Lansing a say over her medical treatment for twelve freaking hours,” Dante muttered. He scrubbed his hand over face, sat up. “Baldwin is going to call Elizabeth. Just her?”

“With the DNA results in evidence, her testimony should be able to link the cases. His deal was only for Elizabeth’s charges—the attack five years ago and the more recent one. He remains charged with the others.”

“And there’s Buffalo behind us,” Mac reminded them. “They’re holding off on charging him until we conclude here. They can always go after him, and they don’t have the same problem as we do—”

“ _We_ ,” Dante muttered, and Mac nodded, accepting the censure.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said slowly, “but it wasn’t. I should have done things differently, but Rodriguez is right. I’ve been fired, and the day of the hearing is my last day. We’re hoping that will help.”

“This just doesn’t seem fair,” Lucky said with a shake of his head. A few minutes later, their questions answered, Mac returned to his office, and Taggert and Cruz left on a follow-up interview for another case.

Lucky frowned at Dante across their desks. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just—” Dante took a deep breath. “Just thinking of things we could do. I mean, this—he’s my family. My blood. I hate that he can keep putting Elizabeth Webber through this crap.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not wild about it either. She’s pregnant, you know,” Lucky told him. Dante raised his brows. “It’s mostly being kept in the family, but I’m not happy that she’s being pushed to do this with that going on, too.”

“Pregnant,” Dante repeated. “That’s—isn’t that awfully quick after everything this summer?”

“It wasn’t planned, but Elizabeth decided to keep the baby. Not surprising.” Lucky shrugged, reached for a file. “But Emily and Nikolas are still concerned. They’re going to hit the roof when they find out about this.” He looked at Dante. “You have any ideas to make it easier?”

“Not exactly.” Dante hesitated. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his partner about the visit he’d paid Vinnie—easily proved, he thought. His name was on the log, and there’d be a video of him.

And there was that audio recorder he’d had in his pocket—the audio he’d made of Vinnie confessing to all the rapes, particularly Brooke’s. His pride in himself for having done it. He’d made it, he’d told himself, in case of a situation like this. To protect the victims. To nail the coffin shut.

But he hadn’t expected to _need_ it. And now—giving them that tape—he didn’t know if it _was_ the right thing. Vinnie talked about Brooke’s sexuality, and he didn’t think Ned and Lois knew about that. And there were other details that weren’t fair—

His grandmother and aunt were already heartbroken, sure there was some mistake. Dante and his mother’s relationship with them had been strained since it had happened—Lois had fled Bensonhurst in the wake of it. If Dante helped convict his cousin—

He shook his head. “I have some thoughts, but I want—I want to think about them some more. We can’t let him get away with this.”

“We won’t,” Lucky promised him.

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

Elizabeth bounced Morgan lightly in her arms and looked over at Carly next to her on the sofa. “Thanks for letting me come over. I was hoping—” She sighed. “I was hoping that spending some time with a baby would get my mind off this morning.”

“I have him twenty-four seven, so have at it.” Carly leaned against the back of the sofa. “Are you okay? I mean—it’s bad enough Ric is—” She looked away.

“It’s hard,” Elizabeth said, slowly. “Last week—last week, I thought things were finally going right. The trial was going to start soon, and Vinnie had already made the deal—two of the worst things that ever happened to me—” She met Carly’s eyes. “And I was going to get justice in both of them.”

“And now, you might not have it in either.” Carly hesitated. “I’m surprised you came here,” she admitted. “I know you’re closer to Emily or Nikolas. Or even my mother—”

“Well, I wanted to see Morgan, but I also—” Elizabeth paused. “I thought maybe you’d understand.” She looked back at her. “I mean, you have your boys. Michael’s such a great kid, and look at this perfect little boy—” She sighed down at Morgan as the newborn’s eyes drifted close.

She stood up to place him in his bassinet. “I have Jason, and we’re—” Elizabeth rested her hand on her belly, over the slight curve. “We’re having a baby. Together. I can’t think of two things I want more. And I can’t—”

She looked back at Morgan, adjusted the edge of his sleeve, restless. “I can’t _really_ be happy about it. Because Ric is out there. And now, my rapist—the man who brutalized so many other women after me—he might get away with it.”

“I try not to think about it,” Carly said slowly. She rose to her feet, crossed over to Elizabeth. “But, yeah, it’s always there. And the nightmares—they were mostly gone. I mean, I still have them from time to time—but I was really starting to think I was done with all of that. I haven’t had a panic attack in a few months.”

“And I’m wondering if I’d be a hypocrite—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “If this hearing in Syracuse next month—if it goes wrong—”

“You’re thinking that maybe Jason could step in and get justice another way,” Carly finished.

“I asked him to leave Ric alone for the trial—to let him rot in prison.” Elizabeth brushed her hair out of her face, clenching her fingers in the strands briefly before letting her hand fall to her side. “But we had an agreement — if Ric weaseled out of trial—if he got acquitted or something—”

“Jason could do what he wants.” Carly tipped her head to the side. “You’re kind of casual about this. Last year—”

“I’ve always known who Jason is,” Elizabeth said. “Why do you think I had to ask Jason for the trial? You know it, too. You had to ask Sonny.”

“Ask.” Carly winced, looked away. “I didn’t bother asking him,” she admitted. “In fact, I was _going_ to avoid the whole conversation. I knew he’d never give it to me in a million years.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “But I thought—”

“The only reason Ric was alive to jump bail is because Jason promised you to leave him alive for trial,” Carly said, flatly. “And he extended that promise to me. Sonny never promised.”

“Oh. I guess—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s different now. He jumped bail, and I guess that part of the agreement—I mean, I don’t expect a trial now.”

“Me either. But it would have been nice.” Carly rubbed her throat. “It would have been nice to look him in the eye and make sure he knew he hadn’t won. That I had my son and that _no one_ could take him from me. That no one was going to lock me up again.”

“I wanted that moment, too,” Elizabeth admitted. “He thought I was weak, gullible—someone who could be controlled. But if I can’t have that—I guess I have to find a way to be okay with it.”

“How’s that going for you?” Carly asked.

“Not well.” Elizabeth flashed her a smile, then sat back on the sofa. “But maybe this hearing—maybe it can be the same thing. The whole thing is resting on me, so I get to—I get to tell the judge about what happened that day. All the things he said—” Her voice caught. “What he did.”

Carly sat next to her again. “Are you ready for that?”

“I have a month, so I guess I’ll have time to find out.” Elizabeth picked at the nail polish on her thumb. “Do you think Ric is in South America? Or planning to do something?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even _know_ what’s going on.” Carly closed her eyes. “I asked Sonny this morning. And he said they didn’t know anything. That all I needed to know was that they haven’t found him.”

She opened her eyes to find Elizabeth looking at her. “And then I told him I’d just ask you what was going on because I’m sure Jason’s telling you everything.”

“Carly—” Elizabeth shook her head. “I—”

“And man, he _really_ didn’t like being compared to Jason,” she muttered. “I guess it’s probably a sore spot. I just—I figured Jason—because he made you that promise—he doesn’t see this as business as usual. And Sonny does.”

“Oh. Well…Sonny’s not lying. They haven’t found him.” Elizabeth squinted. “He said something about using their network in South America—some of the other people they work with—so if Ric shows up somewhere, they’ll know. I think it’s still early—or that they’re still trying to find evidence of him getting out of the country.”

Carly nodded. “What does Jason think?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s been careful about telling me what he thinks,” Elizabeth replied. “He’s mostly in a wait-and-see frame of mind.”

“Okay. Okay.” Carly rubbed her hands back and forth on her thighs. “Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it. Um, if it’s okay—”

“I’ll pass on anything else Jason tells me,” Elizabeth told her before Carly could even ask. “Until Sonny changes his mind. I’m sure he’s trying, Carly—”

“He is. I just—” Carly shook her head. “Never mind.”

Elizabeth wanted to press her, but she and Carly weren’t really that close. Talking about Ric was one thing—prying into Carly’s marriage was another. “I should get home and grab some lunch. Thanks for letting me get some Morgan time in.”

“Well, you need to get ready,” Carly said as she followed Elizabeth to the door. “You’ll have one of your own in less than six months.”

Elizabeth grinned, her mood finally lifted. “That’s _definitely_ something to look forward to.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Georgie pushed through the door and hesitated when she saw the group at the counter. Lulu was working that shift, and their usual crowd— _Lulu_ _’s_ usual crowd—was taking up all the stools. Dillon, Maxie, Lucas, and his boyfriend, Felix DuBois. The only one missing was Maxie’s boyfriend, Kyle Radcliffe, currently in his junior year at Princeton.

She took a deep breath and walked towards the back of the diner to grab her apron and get to work.

“Hey, Georgie,” Lulu said carefully as Georgie walked behind the counter, tying the ends of the green apron. “I forgot you were working today.”

“Yeah, I asked Bobbie for some extra shifts. Christmas and all.” Georgie bit her lip, picked up the order pad, scanned the restaurant—but the lunch rush had already ended, and it was the lull before dinner.

“How’s classes?” Felix asked, and she looked at him, his warm and friendly expression easing the ice in her veins.

“Oh, good. Interesting,” she said finally. “It’s, um, weird to get to just focus on things I like.”

“Yeah, but you like _all_ of school,” Maxie told her. “You always made me look bad,” she said with a slurp of her milkshake.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to take any gen eds,” she reminded her. “I, uh, took a lot of that in high school. You know, AP and all that.”

“I _knew_ there was a reason I hated you,” Lulu said, and Georgie looked at her, surprised by the lightness in her tone. “I hate college, and you’re like—halfway done.”

A smile played at her lips. “No, but I’ll have my BA a year early. Which is good, because it means I can get my Ph.D. sooner.”

“More school, ugh, _where_ did I go wrong with you?” Maxie threw up her hands. “Lucas, fix her—”

“You’re appealing to Lucas, who’s signing up for medical school?” Dillon said, raising his brows. He shot Georgie a hesitant smile, and she wondered—

Would it be that easy? Could they just…move past the last few months?

“Don’t look at me,” Felix said as Maxie looked at him. “I’m in nursing school—and—” he leaned across Lucas, lowered his voice as if he were going to share a secret. “I like school, too.”

“Oh my God, I’m _surrounded_ by nerds,” Maxie moaned.

“You’ve still got me,” Lulu said confidently. “I’m only going to college for a year to convince my parents it’s a terrible idea. Then I’m going to make my dad let me have the bar—”

“Or—” Dillon said. “You could take some business classes, so you don’t run it into the ground—” Lulu shot him a dirty look, and he put up his hands in mock surrender. “Just a thought.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Lulu said with a sniff. She put her nose in the air. “My shift is over, and I’m going home.”

She walked into the back, and Maxie raised her brows at Dillon. “Uh, do I need to smack someone? That almost looked like a real fight.”

“We’re not fighting,” Dillon muttered as he looked down at his burger.

“Uh huh,” Maxie drawled, clearly unconvinced. She turned to Georgie. “Guess what? Our cousin—” She paused to put her arm around Lucas. “Has lost his mind.”

“Hey, you’re dating Kyle, so you don’t get to have an opinion on the subject,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Georgie asked. She smiled at him, hopeful that she was going to be included again. That they really could just move on. “Lucas?”

“We’re moving in together,” Lucas admitted with a sheepish grin. “Mom offered us one of the apartments at the Brownstone, so—” he shrugged and looked at Felix, who was grinning. “We’ve been together for a while, so it just seemed like a good time.”

“You were supposed to be my gay friend,” Maxie sighed. “We were going to scope out boys together—”

“You’re _dating_ Kyle,” Georgie reminded her, and Maxie wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, right. Well, then I guess we _both_ ruined my dreams.”

Lucas rolled his eyes at his melodramatic cousin, and they moved on to talk about something else.

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Jason was not happy to hear that his visit to Pentonville was part of the reason Scott wasn’t calling Taggert to testify at the hearing.

She waited until they were getting ready for bed to tell him, hoping that she could make the whole thing sound routine—Elizabeth didn’t want him to worry about something he couldn’t control.

But his mouth tightened as he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her as she sat at her vanity table, her brush clutched in her hand. “I shouldn’t have gone—”

“And Baker might not have told Taggert what he needed to know,” Elizabeth told him. “Scott didn’t think it would be an issue. He always figured if Taggert needed to testify about it, he could just give you immunity or something. He wasn’t wild about that either,” she added when Jason grimaced. “But it’s different now that it’s a federal case. I don’t want you called to testify either, Jason.”

“I don’t care about me,” he insisted. “I’ll testify—”

“And Scott knows that.” She bit her lip, set the brush down, and sat next to him on the bed. “He knows it’s not a question _if_ you’d do it—and if it were just you, he might not be worried. He’s interrogated you,” she teased him, reminding him of his murder trial earlier that year for Alcazar’s murder. “He knows you can take care of yourself.”

“Then what’s the problem? Why is he putting all this pressure on _you_?” Jason demanded.

“Because it’s not _just_ the visit to Pentonville. Taggert asked you go there to intimidate Baker and could probably be explained away, which is one thing on its own. But when you add it to what Mac did with my rape kit, what Vinnie got away with—and even what Capelli did this summer—” Elizabeth sighed. “It makes it look like the PCPD has a pattern of corruption.”

“They _do_ —” Jason exhaled slowly. “Which is the point.”

“I know you hate this,” she told him. She leaned against him, resting her chin on his shoulder, taking his hand in hers. “I offered to make Scott’s life easier by dropping my case entirely. They could go forward on Brooke’s charges. Or any of the other women who had a DNA match.”

Jason scowled. “That’s not—”

“Ned felt the same way,” Elizabeth cut in as Jason shoved off the bed to stalk across the room, towards the fireplace. “Scott told me no. It was never on the table. He thinks my testimony alone will sway the judge.”

“I just—” Jason looked at her. “I hate this. I _hate_ that they’re asking you to do more for them, after everything—”

“I’m not doing it for them,” she corrected. “I mean, yes, technically. But I’m doing it for me. I probably won’t get what I need by testifying against Ric. Thank you for that promise, but I’m not holding you to it—”

“I’m trying—”

She crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, looking up at him. “I know you are. But I know it might not happen. I didn’t know if I’d even get to make an impact statement, you know? With Vinnie pleading guilty and all, they might not have allowed it. I can’t stand up to Ric. But I could—” She searched his eyes. “I _can_ do this. It’s not enough that I bashed his knees with a bat—I want him to see me. To know that what he’s been deluding himself was special was nothing more than a nightmare to me. A nightmare that I am never going to have again. Because it’s over. And _I_ get to end it.”

Jason sighed, then dropped his forehead against hers. “My life might be easier if you were less brave,” he admitted. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She took his face in her hands, lifted it slightly so their lips could meet. “This is going to be over soon. And we’ll be able to get on with the rest of our lives, okay?”

“Okay.” Jason brushed her hair out of her face, letting the backs of his fingers trail down her cheek.

“By the way,” she murmured as he tugged her towards the bed. “We should probably keep our eye on Sonny and Carly.”

Jason groaned slightly, with one knee pressed into the mattress as he pulled her against him. “Why?” he asked. “What happened?”

Elizabeth winced, sliding her fingers through his hair, letting her fingertips dance over the smooth, bare skin of his neck and shoulders. “Nothing. But Sonny isn’t really telling Carly much about the search for Ric, and I just—” She hesitated. “There’s something about the _way_ she told me—it irked me.”

“It irked you,” Jason repeated, frowning slightly at her.

“Yes,” she insisted. Elizabeth arched a brow. “You don’t think I can tell when something is wrong with her? I don’t know her as well as you do, but—”

“No, I’m just—” Jason grimaced. “I’m _really_ not in the mood for another round with Sonny and Carly,” he admitted.

“No, me either. But that doesn’t change reality.” She grinned at him. “But I _can_ tell you’re in the mood for something, so—um—” She kissed him lightly, nipping at his lips. He tightened his arms at her waist. “Let’s change the subject.” Elizabeth lightly pushed at his shoulders, and he fell back on the bed. She climbed on top of him, giggling when he gently pulled her down to him.

“Let’s stop talking at all,” he murmured as he rolled her beneath him.


	5. Chapter Fifty-Five

_Beat down on me, beat down like a waterfall_  
 _'Cause I can take on so much more than I had ever dreamed_  
 _So beat down on me, beat down like a waterfall_  
 _'Cause baby, I am ready to be free_  
\- Invincible, Kelly Clarkson

* * *

_Thursday, November 13, 2003_

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

“Uh, Mrs. C? No one’s home over there—”

Carly stopped and looked back at Max, who had followed her around the corner as she’d walked towards Jason’s penthouse. “What? Where—”

“Jason is at the warehouse, I think, and it’s Thursday, so Miss Webber has a meeting at the hospital.” Max hesitated. “Do you need something?”

Carly pursed her lips, then nodded. “Okay. No, I’m fine. Thanks, Max.”

She stalked back into the penthouse and closed the door behind, finding her husband precisely where she’d left him—at the dining table, perusing a newspaper. “Sonny.”

“Yeah?” Sonny glanced up, squinted at her. “Did you go somewhere?”

She exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I need you to tell Max that it’s okay if I go out again. Who’s available to drive me to the club?”

“It’s only been a week, Carly.” Sonny closed the newspaper, carefully folded it. “Not just since Morgan was born, but since Ric went missing. He could make his move at any time—”

“And that’s why I’ll take a guard,” Carly cut in. “Is Milo around? Or Rocco. He was my guard before. Did you reassign him?”

Sonny clenched his jaw, got to his feet. “Carly, we’ve _talked_ about this. I asked you to stick close to home—”

“No, you asked me to stay here while you looked for Ric. Every time I step out the door, Max tells me there’s no guard to take me anywhere. I find that extremely hard to believe.” She folded her arms. “Admit it, Sonny. _Admit_ what you’re doing.”

“Fine.” Sonny shrugged. “I gave orders that you’re not to leave the penthouse level unless I’m with you.”

She’d known it—she’d sensed it—but knowing it and hearing Sonny admit to essentially locking her up in these walls—

Her lungs seized, and Carly struggled for a moment to breathe.

_It_ _’s not like before. It’s not like before._

_You_ _’re safe._

“Elizabeth gets to live her life, and Ric was more obsessed with her than me. Why is it safe for her?” Carly demanded. She knew the answer, but damn it, she wanted to hear Sonny say it out loud.

“I’m not in charge of her security,” Sonny bit out. “If Jason is comfortable letting her risk her life and their child—that’s on him.”

“You can’t stop me from leaving, Sonny. If there’s no one to drive me, then I’ll call a cab. I’ll have my mother come get me—” Carly’s words tumbled over one another as she sought to reassure herself that she could leave.

She wasn’t trapped.

“You could. But you’re not taking the baby out without a car seat. Do you have one of those?” Sonny said pleasantly. “And I let Leticia go so you can’t leave the boys alone.”

“You—” Carly’s voice trembled. “You let Leticia go.” Her son’s nanny, who had been with Michael almost since birth. “ _You_ didn’t hire her—”

“No, but _I_ pay her. You’re at home, so you don’t need a nanny.” Sonny picked up the paper and his cup of coffee. “This is to keep you safe, Carly. I told you—”

“This isn’t—” Carly clenched her hands into fists at her side. “This isn’t fair—”

“Neither is abandoning your son a week after he was born. I’m not Jason,” Sonny said tightly. “I’m not going to let you walk away from another kid because it’s convenient. You’re going to do the work this time—”

“ _What_ did you just say to me?” Carly demanded, but Sonny continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“—and you’re going to stay here and safe until Ric is caught. You promised me—”

“No, you’re _not_ Jason,” Carly said softly. He stopped speaking, and she just stared at him, then swallowed hard. “I can fight this. You know that. All I have to do is call Jason. He’ll help me get the boys out of here—I’ll go to my mother’s, and I won’t come back—”

“I’m sorry if you disagree with me, Carly.” Sonny sauntered past her to toss the newspaper on his desk. He placed his coffee next to it.

She turned to face him. “Sonny, you’re trapping me in this penthouse. You’re using my kids against me. That’s—that’s not a lot better—”

“I’m asking you to stay at home a few weeks while we sort things out with Ric.” His eyes burned into hers, revealing the depth of his anger even as his tone remained calm. “You can go across the hall whenever you want. You just had Elizabeth over for lunch. Your mother can come here. I don’t really see the problem.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.” Carly closed her eyes, took a deep breath. It wasn’t the same. Wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t a small room with no windows. It wasn’t soundproof. If someone heard her scream—they’d come get her—someone would stop it—

Wasn’t the same. Sonny wasn’t Ric. He loved her. She knew he loved her. She just had to—she had to work this out. She couldn’t go back to her mother, ask Bobbie to bail her out again—

“December 1,” Carly said finally. She swallowed hard, looked at him. “Morgan will be nearly a month old. After that, Sonny—I’m going back to work. I want you to call Leticia, apologize, and ask her to return after Thanksgiving.”

“I—”

“I know you’re scared,” Carly said, her chest slowly easing. She could do this. She could work this out. “I _know_ this isn’t about me. Not really. I know you’re trying to protect yourself. I know that, Sonny. I know what happened last summer—it scared you.”

His mouth tightened, and he looked away. “I can’t be weak again,” he muttered.

“And _I_ can’t be locked up.”

His eyes swung back to her, startled. “I’m not—that’s not what this—I would _never_ —” Sonny dragged his hands through his hair, then closed his eyes. “You’re right. You’re right. That’s what I’m doing. I don’t—I just didn’t—I need you to be okay, so I can think.”

“And I’m willing to give you the time to get this sorted, Sonny. Because I love you. But you do not own me.” Her throat felt thick, and she forced the words out over the lump that had risen. “ _I_ am in charge of _my_ life. My freedom. I am asking you to show me some respect.”

When he just stared at her, her eyes burned. “I’m not screaming at you. I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m not even calling Jason. But _Elizabeth_ is fine. She’s living her life—and I deserve nothing less than that.”

“I—I’m trying to find him—”

“I know you are. And you—you get this month. As long as you hire Leticia back and you agree that December 1—this ends.” Carly stared at him. “ _Promise me_ , Sonny. December 1, I get my life back.”

“December 1,” Sonny said with a reluctant nod. “Unless—”

“No. No _unless_. I get my life back. You don’t put conditions on my freedom. I get to do that.” She pressed her hand flat against her chest. “That’s the deal—”

“Fine,” Sonny bit out. “I have to get to work.”

**General Hospital: Hallway**

“Thank you,” Elizabeth was saying to Renee as she saw Lois striding down the hallway towards her. “I’m glad you agreed.”

“I’m scared,” Renee admitted. “But I’m ready—if you’ll do all the speaking.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth looked at Lois with a slight frown. “Did—did you need something?” she asked Brooke’s mother as she hung back slightly.

“I—I was hoping to catch you after one of your meetings,” Lois admitted. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I must have gotten the time wrong—”

“You didn’t. I’m just walking—”

“You’re Brooke’s mother,” Renee said softly. “I saw you on the news. And in the papers. I—” She took a deep breath. “I’m Renee. I was—it happened to me in May.”

Lois’s face paled slightly as she nodded. “I—I read—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—are you—” She looked at Elizabeth. “I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“It’s okay,” Renee told her. “Elizabeth started these meetings for us, so we could work through it together. And we’re going to be there in Syracuse when she testifies.”

“You—” Lois pressed her lips together. “You’ll be there?”

“We can’t give statements,” Renee continued. “But we’ll be in the audience.” She flicked a smile at Elizabeth. “We want to be part of it. We want to help put him away.”

“That’s—that’s very brave. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you next week,” Elizabeth told Renee. The teenager waved at Elizabeth as she walked down the hall and turned a corner. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just—” Lois looked after Renee. “She’s the youngest, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s sixteen.” Elizabeth gestured for Lois to follow her into the meeting room. “I have the room for another twenty minutes. I always overbook in case someone wants to stay.”

“Edward said you were volunteering here,” Lois said as Elizabeth offered her a seat. “You were—” She paused. “You were the same age.”

“You want some water?” Elizabeth asked. She poured out two glasses and handed one to Lois. “Yeah, I turned sixteen on November 1, and then four months later—” She took a deep breath. “A few months younger than Renee.”

“Brooke was nineteen.” Lois’s hand gripped the glass tightly as she stared into the clear liquid. “She would have been twenty last month.” She closed her eyes. “I just wish I knew what I could have done differently so that she’d be here at these meetings with you. I know—I know you talked to her before. She called you.”

“I missed the call,” Elizabeth said softly. “And it—it haunted me for a while afterward. What if I had picked up—” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. Please. Don’t apologize. I listened to the message. The tape you had Lucas make for Ned. He couldn’t. But I did. She passed out during that call to you. And it gives me hope—it gives me hope that it wasn’t something she meant to do. Or if she did—she wanted to take it back. She didn’t want to die.” Lois took a deep breath. “She was trying to reach out. She wanted help. It helps me sleep at night. ”

Lois swiped at her cheeks, set the glass aside. “That’s not why I came here. And you don’t need my issues—”

“No, but I’ll listen if you want me to,” Elizabeth offered. “We—you know, we should have a group for families. Like we do for families of alcoholics or drug addicts. It was hard for me to tell my family, and they didn’t know how to help me. My sister and I drifted apart after that, and my grandmother never—they meant well. But sometimes I felt like I was spending so much time trying to help them cope that I couldn’t deal with myself.”

“Ned and I—we divorced when she was a baby,” Lois told her. “You know that, I’m sure. And then we spent her entire life arguing. She woke up to us, arguing in the hospital. She asked us to leave that day because _all_ we did was argue.” She looked away, her eyes distant. “It’s crazy, but I don’t even remember what we were arguing about that day.”

Elizabeth said nothing, just remained quiet as Lois gathered herself and her thoughts. “I came here because I wanted to work on the hearing. To thank you for standing up for my daughter and all the others. I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed, and you’re—you’re already one step ahead of me.”

“I was in the right place at the right time,” Elizabeth replied. “Gail had asked me to lead a meeting as part of my own recovery, and it just—it just made sense to organize one for Vinnie’s survivors. To put out a call for anyone who wasn’t ready to make a report. Today, I told them about the hearing, and some want to sit in the courtroom as a united front.”

“I’m sure you can’t tell me, but—but have any women shown up who weren’t—” Lois met her eyes. “Are there girls we don’t know about officially?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said with a tremble in her voice. “Two showed up today. They’re not ready to go forward.”

“God—we thought there were only seven here, but there were more—”

“At least two more. One was only a month after my attack,” Elizabeth told Lois. “I wanted to call Taggert, to get some more police reports and check Vinnie’s whereabouts. I have the girl’s permission to share details, just not their names. The day after I made my first report, someone was grabbed from the movie theater. Not the park. He raped her in the alley.”

Lois choked back a sob. “Oh, God. Oh, God. That poor baby. How old?”

“She was nineteen. Fits the profile. She’s not sure if it’s Vinnie, and it’s too late to test for anything. But she’s petite, brunette, and was walking home from the movie theater.”

“The other?”

“About after Tom Baker was arrested, he must have felt safe to go back to the park,” Elizabeth admitted. “Seventeen this time. He attacked her near the North fountain on her way home from the park. Neither of them were hurt as badly as everyone who came after.”

Lois closed her eyes. “And they didn’t report.”

“I didn’t report right away either. I nearly didn’t save the dress. I wanted it to go away. I was _desperate_ to make it go away.”

“Brooke wanted it that way, too. She wanted it not to have happened, but Floyd leaking her name meant she never had the chance to escape it.” Lois cleared her throat. “I wonder if at the end—if the reason she took those pain pills—if she remembered and she wanted to forget.” She bit her lip. “And I can’t decide what I _want_ to have happened.”

Elizabeth reached over to squeeze Lois’s hands. “I don’t know, Lois. I’m sorry.”

Lois bowed her head, took another deep breath. When she raised her head again, met Elizabeth’s eyes, she seemed to have gotten herself under control. “Thank you. For sitting with me.”

“Any time. I mean that, Lois, any time. I wasn’t—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I wasn’t in the frame of mind to help Brooke the way she needed—no, I don’t blame myself—” she said quickly when Lois shook her head. “I mean that I was processing everything that had happened to me with Ric. With the panic room, with my embolism. I couldn’t make room for what happened to Brooke. I meant to check on her. I didn’t. That will haunt me for a long time, Lois. I could have done more.”

“All we can do,” Lois said, tightening her grip on Elizabeth’s hand, “is do right by her now. So, I’m glad that you’re organizing the other survivors. Let me know if you need transportation or anything else.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They got to their feet, and Elizabeth’s head spun for a second. She put a hand on the back of the chair to keep herself upright. Lois braced her elbow.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I just—I stood up too quickly,” Elizabeth told her, closing her eyes as the vertigo passed. “I’m okay. Sometimes I forget to slow down.”

“I fainted a few times with Brooke,” Lois said. “Do you need me to call anyone—”

“Oh, no, I don’t drive myself anymore. Cody is down the hall at the elevators. He’ll take me home.” She smiled at Lois. “Thanks.”

“Any time. Call me if you need anything before the hearing.”

“I will.”

**Jones House: Georgie** **’s Bedroom**

Maxie knocked on her sister’s door frame. “Hey, Georgie, do you have an extra straightener I can borrow?” she asked, bouncing into Georgie’s room and flopping across her bed. “Mine broke, and, like, I can’t live with the floofy hair—”

Georgie glanced over from her computer with a frown. “I just have mine—did you come all the way from campus to ask me that?”

“Well, I guess I could have just bought a new one,” Maxie allowed, “but, uh, I might have spent all my money for this month.”

“Already?” Georgie rolled her eyes. “Maxie—that’s supposed—” She shook her head. “I won’t even bother explaining the concept of a budget to you. It’ll be lost.”

“Ugh, I’ll just have to live like this until Dad sends next month’s allowance. It’s, like, literally the only good thing the jackass has ever done.” Maxie grimaced as Georgie sighed and looked back at her work. “Georgie, look, I just wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Georgie asked, continuing to type.

“For being a bitch the last few months. For making fun of you for voting for Floyd. I—it was _really_ mean, and I’m trying to be less mean.”

Georgie turned back to her. “Did Mom talk to you or something?” she asked flatly. “I told her not to—”

“Georgie, do you remember that night? When you and I were driving the streets that surrounded the park?” Maxie asked. She sat up, folding her legs. “And we kept thinking — kept telling each other — we’ll turn this corner, and she’ll be right there. I really thought she’d be at the bus stop, you know? And we did that loop twice—and I kept telling myself—”

Maxie stared at her hands. “Because if she’d only just left—if we’d just _missed_ her walking away for a minute or two, she wouldn’t have been able to get that far ahead.”

“I know. I try to tell myself that I’m somehow better than everyone because I did notice—but—” Georgie smiled grimly. “I didn’t notice soon enough. I know—I know it’s not our fault—”

“And I know it’s not really Mac’s fault either,” Maxie admitted. “But I liked having someone to blame that wasn’t me. And, like, I know we can blame Vinnie Esposito, but I feel—” She bit her lip. “I feel like it’s important not to let any of us off the hook. We have to take care of each other. So that no one ever feels so alone that they walk away, and we don’t see them.”

“That might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Right?” Maxie said, brightening. “Listen, can you write it down, so I don’t forget, and then tell _everyone_ that I’m super wise, because—”

Georgie groaned and turned back to her homework.

**Morgan & Corinthos Warehouse: Jason** **’s Office**

Jason was finishing the last signature on customs paperwork when Sonny shoved open the office door and stormed in. “We have a problem.”

Jason frowned, looked over at Bernie, who looked mystified. “What’s wrong? Did you hear from Johnny?” He looked at the clock on his desk. Johnny would have only just landed in Puerto Rico.

“No, but your security is _crap_ ,” Sonny said. “Where is Elizabeth right now?” he demanded.

Jason got to his feet. “What happened? Do I need to call her—”

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you even _know_ where she is?” Sonny pushed.

Jason blinked at him, realizing he didn’t have a firm answer to that question. With a sour taste in his mouth, he said, “I—I’m not sure. She had a few meetings at the hospital this morning, but then I think she was going to try to see Lila for lunch.”

“What about after that?”

“I don’t know, Sonny. I think she hadn’t planned anything, so she’ll probably go home—” Jason scowled at him. “ _What_ _’s_ going on? Is it Ric? Tagliatti? Vega?”

“None of that. But it doesn’t feel good not to know, does it? You remember when she was kidnapped? You nearly sold us down the river to get her back last year—”

Jason’s worry and panic swiftly turned to anger as he realized Sonny was just trying to make a point. “You came in here like something was wrong—”

Sonny glowered. “Ric is still missing—”

“Damn it—”

“You’re letting Elizabeth flit all over the place, and Carly seems to think she should get to do the same. You _need_ to get your girlfriend under control—”

“I’m going to go,” Bernie said. He cleared his throat. “I’ll—I’ll come back for those invoices.” He hurried out, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t _let_ Elizabeth do anything,” Jason said, clenching his jaw. “She’s an adult, Sonny. Cody drives her, so she’s always got a guard.”

“You don’t even know where she is, damn it!”

“No, not exactly,” Jason retorted, defensive. “She told me this morning—” He put up his hands. “I don’t have to defend myself to you. Elizabeth is fine. She’s safe—”

“I don’t give a damn about that—” Sonny bit off the rest of the statement. He took a deep breath. “That’s not what I mean. You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then what is this about, Sonny? Carly’s at the penthouse. She’s safe—” Jason stopped, remembering Elizabeth’s worry a few nights earlier. “Sonny, there’s no evidence that Ric is making a move. If we knew where he was—if we knew he was in the country, then I don’t know—maybe I _would_ be asking Elizabeth to stay at home more.”

“Carly seems to think I don’t respect her,” Sonny growled. “Because I don’t _let_ her gallivant off where she wants to go five minutes after she had a baby. If she didn’t see Elizabeth doing whatever _she_ wants, I wouldn’t have this problem—”

“I don’t let Elizabeth do anything,” Jason repeated, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “She’s not my property, Sonny. She’s not a dog, and she’s not a child. She can take care of herself—”

“Really? Because she got herself mixed up with Ric Lansing the second you let her out of your sight,” Sonny reminded him.

Jason scowled. “Don’t make this about me and Elizabeth. _We_ _’re_ fine. You’re having problems because Carly won’t let you control her. Good for her.”

“You _would_ take her side,” Sonny said, dismissing him with a frustrated wave of his hand. He stalked over to the window to glare out over the front of the warehouse. At the trucks driving in and out, the men moving around by the vehicle loading dock. “You’re telling me that nothing about the way you’re handling Elizabeth’s security right now is about making sure she doesn’t leave you like last year?”

Jason shook his head. “ _What_ are you talking about? She didn’t leave me last year because of the job—”

“No? The lies? The long hours?” Sonny lifted his brows. “All I know is _I_ _’m_ handling things the way I normally would in a crisis, and _you_ _’re_ not backing me up—”

Jason bit back the protest that Sonny wasn’t handling _anything_ right now. “You handle your family, Sonny, I’ll take care of mine.”

“Fine. But don’t make me say I told you so when it all blows up in your face,” Sonny snarled as he stormed out of the office.

Jason exhaled slowly, shook his head, and sat down. He took out his phone and stared at it for a minute before pressing the number two on the speed dial and holding it down.

“Hey!” Elizabeth’s voice was warm but surprised. “I thought you were working all day.”

“I am. I just—” Had let Sonny in his head. “Wanted to check on you.”

“Oh. Well, I’m actually here with Lila and Edward. We’re talking about Thanksgiving—I’ll ask him,” she said to someone in the room with her, laughter in her voice. “Lila wants us to come over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

He hesitated, and it was long enough that Elizabeth picked up on it. “We’ll talk about it when I see you tonight. I’m gonna get dinner on the way home, okay?” He heard his grandfather’s gruff voice in the background—and Jason was pretty sure the “boy” Edward was cursing was him.

“Let me get dinner,” he told her. “Eli’s?”

“Yes. I was thinking of ribs—wait a second—” He heard rustling, and then a door. “I came into the foyer for a minute. Are you okay? You don’t normally call to check on me.”

“I know. I just—” He looked at the office door. “You were right to be irked.”

“Oh, no. I’ll check on Carly when I get home. I’m finishing lunch here, and then I was going to the book store with Emily. I’ll be home after that.” She hesitated. “That’s what you wanted to know, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Jason admitted. “We’ll talk tonight. I love you.”

“I love you.”

He closed his phone and tossed it on the desk, irritated with himself for checking on her, and with Sonny for making him worry in the first place.

**Kelly** **’s: Dining Room**

Lulu set an order of burger and fries in front of Dante. “You want a refill on that soda?” she asked, nodding at his glass.

“Oh.” Dante blinked at it, then at her. “Sure. Thanks.”

When she’d refilled the soda, she got busy for a few minutes, taking orders to other tables and delivering checks. When she returned to the counter, Lulu frowned. “You haven’t touched your food. You okay?”

Dante looked at her, his eyes clearing as if it was the first time he was seeing her. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just—my head is—I don’t know. All over the place.”

“Lucky told me yesterday about the hearing next month,” Lulu said. She bit her lip. “You don’t have to say anything, but I’m sorry. I’m sure this is rough on your family.”

“It’s…something.” Dante picked up a fry, then used it to push the others around on the plate. “To be honest, I haven’t really checked in with them. Except when Ma and I drove down to talk to them when it first happened. My grandmother is in denial, so is my aunt.” He grimaced. “The rest of the family is reserving judgment, but it’s really just me and my ma right now who are convinced. And my Uncle Frankie, but he hates my Aunt Fran, so sometimes he’s just an asshole.”

“I used to think it’d be nice to be from a huge family, you know?” Lulu shrugged. “It’s really just my parents, my brothers, and me. And my Grandma Lesley. And my Aunt Amy. That’s it. You have _all_ these cousins and aunts and uncles, but they sound like a pain.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dante’s smile was faint when he looked at her. “Yeah, they are. But I’m just—I’m still processing that my cousin—my blood did this—” His lips tightened, and the humor faded from his eyes. “Now, a federal court might let him get away with it because the PCPD is filled with dumbasses.”

“It sucks, but Lucky thinks Scott has a good plan.” Lulu tried to catch his eye, but Dante just looked away. “What? You don’t think it’ll work?”

“No, it might. Elizabeth gave a good press conference, and she’s done a lot of interviews since. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I just—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, hey—something’s bothering you.” She touched his arm lightly, then pulled back when he frowned at her. “I know we don’t really know each other—”

“It’s just—” Dante sighed, then met her eyes. “I think I could help.”

Lulu furrowed her brow. “How? Like as a character witness?”

“I—” He cleared his throat. “I went to see Vinnie after he was arrested, and I asked him—” His voice was almost inaudible. “I asked him how he could do this to Brooke.”

Lulu stared at him. “He admitted it to you? But—but hadn’t he asked for a lawyer? Isn’t that against the law?”

“I think I can get around it. I’m his cousin. And he’d already negotiated with Scott. He’d already given a statement. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t use it in court—”

“Use it—” Lulu shot out her hand, touched his sleeve. “What do you mean? Oh, my God. You _taped_ him.”

“Yeah.” Dante swallowed hard. “He doesn’t have the right to privacy in the jail, you know. And I went as his family. I think—I think Scott can use the tape if Vinnie tries to claim he was framed. There’s—” He scratched his head. “I don’t know if it can be direct evidence, but—”

“Do you not—” Lulu tried to understand, tried to think her way through it. “Do you not want to be the reason Vinnie goes to jail?” she asked, frowning. “I mean—are you worried your family will blame you?”

“Yeah. And there’s stuff—things he said about Brooke that Ned and Lois don’t need to hear.” Dante pressed his lips together. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess—I guess I just don’t know if _anyone_ should hear that shit he said. The way he talked about those women, about Brooke—God, Elizabeth doesn’t need to know he followed her back then, that he thinks of her as his soul mate—”

Lulu’s stomach turned just thinking it. “Do you think they’d rather Vinnie went free? Dante, c’mon.” She waited for him to look at her. “How you gonna feel if it gets moved to federal court and he cuts a deal better than the one he got here? What if—what if his case gets thrown out because of the cover-up? How are you gonna sleep at night if you _don_ _’t_ do it?”

Dante exhaled slowly. “I know. I just—I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” He sighed. “I should talk to my mom. Warn her.” He got to his feet, went for his wallet, but she stopped him.

“You barely ate,” she told him. “It’s on me. I’m sorry, Dante. I just—this sucks.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

**Luke** **’s: Bar**

Kelsey smiled hesitantly as she stepped up to the bar, tightening her fingers around her purse strap. “Um, hey, Mr. Spencer. I’m supposed to meet Lucky here—”

Luke tossed the towel over his shoulder and leaned on the bar. “Well, he’s running late, I guess, Darlin’. You want something while you’re waiting? And, come on, call me Luke.”

Kelsey wrinkled her nose but set her purse on the bar and climbed onto the stool. “Gin and tonic. I’ll try, but it’s weird. You’re kind of infamous,” she told him. “I mean, for the Cassadines and the stuff you did with Robert Scorpio—”

“Oh, well, I was younger and dumber back then,” Luke said with a grin. “And someone had to keep Robert out of trouble.” His smile faded slightly. “It’s just not right that he’s gone. He was the hero, not me.” He cleared his throat. “Your dad probably told you lots of stories about Robert Scorpio.”

“He did, actually.” Kelsey smiled at the memory. “He loved to tell me stories about the Quartermaines and the Cassadines—and the Spencers. He used to tell me the stories before bed—Mom thought they’d scare me, but I liked them. The Ice Princess was my favorite.”

“One of my finer moments.” Luke hesitated, then nodded. “I knew your dad a bit. He did the books and legal stuff for a club I was managing back then. The Campus Disco.”

“Really?” Kelsey frowned, shook her head a little. “Lucky told me the Campus Disco was run by Frank Smith, but—” She sat back a bit as Luke set her drink in front of her. “Do you mean my dad worked for the mob?”

“Oh, no, no—Ollie wasn’t like that—” He paused as Kelsey dipped her head, took a deep breath. “You okay, kid?”

“No, it’s just—um, people don’t talk about my dad a lot,” she admitted. “When Mrs. Spencer—Laura—” she corrected when Luke lifted his brows. “When she called him Ollie—it’s just—it’s been a _long_ time since I’d heard that name. Mom doesn’t—it still hurts.”

“I’m sure it does.” Luke was quiet for a moment. “Ollie never liked me, mind you. Because I sort of broke up Scott’s marriage to Laura. But he was always above board. Guys like Smith always need someone on the up and up to make them look good. That was your dad. Smith paid good, and I think your dad said something about wanting to put away money.”

“I just know he was a lawyer. We moved away from Port Charles really fast after he died,” Kelsey told him. “That August, actually, and no one in Buffalo knew him. When Scott told me there was a position in his office open—I thought maybe I could feel closer to him.”

“He was a good guy,” Luke repeated. “And I think he’d be _highly_ amused that Laura’s boy ended up with his little girl. I’m sure he’d be very proud of you.”

“Thanks—”

“Hey!” Lucky was a bit breathless when he arrived. He frowned when he saw the tears in Kelsey’s eyes. “What’s wrong?” He glared at his father. “What did you do?”

“Innocent as a baby lamb, Cowboy—” Luke said, holding his hands up.

“No, no, I’m fine.” Kelsey cleared her throat. “Your dad—he knew my father, too. And we were just talking about him.” She looked back at Luke. “Maybe you can tell me some more stories someday.”

“Maybe.” Luke smiled at her. “You guys go grab a table, and I’ll make sure Claude isn’t gonna poison anyone.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Lucky asked as Kelsey grabbed her drink, and they went over to a table. “Dad sometimes doesn’t think—”

“No, no. I, um, I guess he didn’t want to get into it at dinner,” Kelsey said. “But Dad worked at the Campus Disco with Luke. He did the business stuff. It’s just—you know, I told you I don’t get to see a lot of people who knew my dad. Your parents—knowing him—knowing him well enough to call him Ollie—it’s nice.”

“Okay—” Lucky hesitated, then nodded. “Sorry I’m late. We, ah, we had some last minute reports to take.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Elizabeth started that support group for Vinnie’s survivors—she put an ad in the paper—”

“Oh—” Kelsey winced. “She was right, wasn’t she? Some new women came forward.”

“Yeah. She encouraged them to report, so they came in today. We can’t do much with the cases—they’re both old,” he clarified. “No clothing, no evidence. Just the statements, but I told Taggert I’d take the cases.”

“How old? Within the statutes—”

“No, they ran out this year. They were both over eighteen, so the clock didn’t stop,” Lucky added. “The first was March 1998—around the time Elizabeth came in to report her attack. Vinnie set up the meeting with Dara and Garcia.”

Kelsey scowled. “God, he’s everywhere—what about the other attack?”

“That fall. October 1998, the day after Baker was arrested, we were at the PCPD giving the reports.” Lucky exhaled, looked away. “Vinnie was one of the responding officers that day. He heard Elizabeth accuse Baker.” He paused. “Neither of them was as badly—they could walk away.”

“So they walked away, then didn’t report.” Kelsey leaned back in her chair. “Five attacks in that first round. And God knows how many more women here and in Buffalo that didn’t report.”

“Or in New York City. He grew up there—went home for holidays—” Lucky jerked a shoulder. “He deserves to rot in hell.”

“Soon, Lucky.” She reached across the table, squeezed his hand. “It’ll be over soon.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Elizabeth’s face was grim when Jason came home that night, the takeout bag in his hands. He sighed, standing there for a minute, remembering that she’d planned to talk to Carly. He braced himself. “How bad?”

She sighed, then attempted a smile. “I’ll tell you everything, but you really need to feed me.” She set her hand on the curve of her stomach. “Actually, you need to feed the both of us. I am _starving_.”

He grinned at that, and they avoided talking about Sonny or Carly until he’d set them both up with a plate of ribs, a side of fries, and the chocolate-strawberry milkshake she’d left him a message about.

“I almost thought about asking for some vanilla,” Elizabeth confessed. “You know, a Neopolitan ice cream milkshake.” She pursed her lips. “Next time.”

“What did Carly say?”

“Sonny gave orders to all the guards that she’s not to leave the penthouse level without him.” Jason muttered something as she continued. “And he fired Leticia—”

“Leticia?” Jason cut in sharply. “Why—” He grimaced. “Because then Carly can’t just leave or go to work. _Damn_ him—”

“Carly apparently stood her ground and offered a compromise—she gets her life back on December 1—including Leticia—she’ll follow his rules. Otherwise, she’ll leave. By the way, she volunteered you to help her pack, just so you know.”

Jason made a face. He wasn’t looking forward to that possibility, but if it came down to it—he’d hold Sonny down while Carly made her escape. He hadn’t risked everything—including Elizabeth’s life—to get Carly out of a panic room only for Sonny to lock her in a larger cage.

“Is she okay?” Jason asked. He looked towards the door, then shook his head. “Sonny’s home. I can’t check on her—”

“I told her you’d try to come by when Sonny is at work,” Elizabeth assured him. “She’s managing. I thought about offering her Cody and staying home one day, but she said she’d like to save that for something important since Sonny’s head would explode, and he’d yell at you—” She sighed when Jason just looked down at his food. “Oh, God, he’s _already_ yelled at you. That’s why you called.”

“I shouldn’t have—” Jason muttered something under his breath, then looked at her. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to tell me where you are all the time, and I shouldn’t check on you. You don’t do that to me—”

“Because I can’t,” Elizabeth told him. “I know that. You can’t always answer my calls, and I don’t always get to know why. Don’t think I wouldn’t be calling you every hour if I could.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it—”

“No, I don’t own you, and you don’t answer to me. It’s enough that you take a guard everywhere, that you’re not driving yourself, and you tell me where you are most of the time—” Jason hesitated. “It’s just—Sonny came in, and he looked worried—he asked if I knew where you were, and I just—” He shook his head. “I couldn’t shake the feeling because I didn’t know. Not for sure.”

“Do you remember that time you didn’t kick me dragging and screaming from Ric’s house that first night?” Elizabeth asked, almost conversationally as she licked sauce from her thumb. “You know, the night you saw that I was drugged out of my mind?”

“Yeah—” He squinted at her. “Why?”

“You didn’t make me leave. Then the next morning—because it seemed like a good idea at the time—I ate all the food he put in front of me, then overdosed and almost died. You didn’t want me to go back, and I insisted—and I drank my weight in birth control pills because I thought it was safe.”

His mouth tightened as he looked away, remembering all the times he’d seen her drinking tap water to keep herself from feeling hungry—not even thinking about the ice she took from the freezer trays.

“Then you wanted me to go with you to the real estate agent, and I refused—and then I literally had my heart stop on the floor of that house twice.”

“Elizabeth—”

“The point is—” She set her plate aside for a minute to take one of his hands in hers. “I’ve almost died a lot this year. That’s just the times I almost _died_. I’m not even counting the times I’ve been attacked.” She waited for him to meet her eyes. “If there’s _anyone_ in the world who gets to check on me for the hell of it, it’s you. Okay?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite himself. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I’m also sorry for springing Thanksgiving on you like that. It’s just—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s the first year without my grandmother. It’s okay if you don’t want to go, but I’d like to. Emily is going to try to get off work, at least part of the day, and I want to be there for Ned and Lois. It’s their first year without Brooke, and with this hearing—”

“I’ll go,” Jason told her. He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers, then lightly licked at the corner of her mouth, at a small smear of sauce. “Just don’t expect me to stay all night.”

“I’ll be happy with ten minutes,” she told him. Elizabeth beamed at him, and he decided that he would do whatever it took to make sure she was _always_ that happy.


	6. Chapter Fifty-Six

_Sometimes it feels like they wanna remind me_  
 _Send all those villains after me_  
 _I'm not their hero_  
 _But that doesn't mean that I wasn't brave_  
 _I never walked the party line_  
 _Doesn't mean that I was never afraid_  
 _I'm not your hero_  
 _But that doesn't mean we're not one and the same_  
\- I’m Not Your Hero, Tegan and Sara

* * *

_Thursday, November 27, 2003_

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Sonny** **’s Office**

“Is this going to take long?” Justus asked Jason as they filed into Sonny’s office. “Tamika will kill me if I leave her alone at the Quartermaines too long.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. He’d been unhappy when Sonny had insisted they all come to the warehouse today—he’d argued that they could meet at Sonny’s place, or even at Jason’s, but Sonny didn’t want either Carly or Elizabeth to overhear anything—and Jason wasn’t in the mood for that argument again.

“Johnny called,” Bernie told them as he nodded at Sonny. “Late last night. One of Michelena’s men saw Ric in Caracas.”

Jason exhaled, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders. The first sign of Ric since he’d gone missing three weeks earlier, and he’d surfaced thousands of miles away. “So he’s out of the country. That’s—” He looked at Sonny, and some of his optimism dissipated when he saw Sonny’s expression. “That’s good.”

“Good?” Sonny scowled. “How did he get out of the country without anyone knowing? How do we _know_ it’s him?”

“Johnny already sent two of his guys to verify and to see if we can bring Ric in,” Bernie told him. “He’ll report back as soon as possible.”

“Bring him in?” Sonny said. His eyes snapped, and he whipped his head to look at Jason, who was in the middle of a wince. “What the _fuck_ —”

“If Ric just disappears,” Jason said, as Bernie offered him an apologetic glance behind Sonny’s back, “ _none_ of us win. The PCPD will still be breathing down our backs. And Capelli’s dumb enough to try another raid. Eventually, a warrant _is_ going to get through. We don’t need that. We bring Ric in, we deal with him—”

“And leave him for the vultures to pick apart,” Sonny bit out. “The PCPD can take fucking crime scene photos—we’re not doing this—” He whirled back around, jabbing a finger at Bernie. “You call Johnny back. Shoot to kill, you got it?”

“Got it, Boss.”

Sonny stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him as Bernie and Justus looked at Jason, their brows raised.

Jason had to tread lightly. He’d meant every word of his argument to Sonny—if they could just dump Ric on the PCPD or the FBI, the heat would be off them, but he also wanted to keep his promise to Carly and Elizabeth.

Especially if Elizabeth might not be able to get justice in her rape case—he was sure as hell going to make sure she got to see Ric rot behind bars.

“Jase?” Justus asked. He rested his hands on the back of a chair, his brows lifting. “Does Bernie make that call?”

“No,” Jason said with regret. “No. I’ll talk to Johnny myself. Bringing in Ric alive is—it’s the best solution for all of us. You can tell him Johnny got the message.”

“All right, but if this blows up on us, you’re taking the hit,” Bernie told him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a football game I’d like to watch.”

He left the office, but Jason could see Justus wasn’t convinced. “Go ahead,” he told his cousin. “Say it.”

“I’m wondering if this is a fight you want to have with Sonny,” Justus admitted. “You know he’s at the end of his rope. Three weeks—this is the first sign of life we’ve had from Lansing—Sonny is driving Carly crazy. Every time I go over to their place, she looks _miserable_ —”

“She’s going back to work on Monday,” Jason told him. “That was their deal—” He shook his head. “I’m not wrong. If we can’t bring him in alive, fine. But I don’t want anyone wondering where he went. I want this case closed.”

“Look, you know, I’m not comfortable with this side of the business,” Justus told him. “But it’s Lansing. It feels different to me. It feels like revenge, going after him this way.” He tipped his head to the side. “I know I want him brought in alive, and I’d prefer it’d be the FBI, so our hands were clean.”

“I—” Jason exhaled slowly. “I promised—” He looked at Justus. “I promised Elizabeth he’d go to trial and rot in prison. It’s what she wants, what Carly wants. I don’t care. I just want him gone. He can go to prison. You’re right. What Sonny wants is revenge.”

“There are ways to make sure it gets done your way,” Justus told him. “I just don’t know if you’re ready to take that leap.” He straightened. “We’re about to have Thanksgiving dinner with our cousin, Ned, who also happens to be the mayor.”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Jason said. He felt an itch between his shoulders. “But it’s—it’s not how we do things.”

“No, it’s not how _Sonny_ does things. He taught you everything you know about this business, and I get where he’s coming from. I’m asking you—how do _you_ want this done?” Justus walked towards the office door but turned back to look at him briefly before he opened it. “And what are you willing to do to keep that promise?”

**Scorpio House: Living Room**

“Hey, Uncle Mac?”

Mac looked up from the classified section and squinted at his niece as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a plastic container in her hands. “Yeah?”

“Mom wants to know if you want to leave for Felicia’s in ten minutes or so?” Robin Scorpio sniffed the plastic. “And what _is_ this?”

Mac frowned, considered it. “Um, I think it might be soup—” He got to his feet and crossed to her. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning out the fridge,” Robin said simply as she returned the kitchen where her mother, Anna Devane, was drinking a glass of water. “It looks like you haven’t done it in _months_ —”

“You don’t need to—” He took the container from her and tossed it in the sink. “You don’t need to do any of that.”

“Yeah, but—” Robin shrugged. “I want to. Did you want to leave in about ten minutes?”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds fine—”

“Great.” Robin kissed his cheek. “I need to go grab some things from my room. I’ll be right back—”

Mac sighed as his niece left the room, then turned back to Anna. “Every time she comes to see me, she cleans something.”

“She’s always horrified by the state of _my_ pantry,” Anna offered. “Apparently, one isn’t supposed to live _entirely_ on wine.” She tipped her head to the side. “We haven’t had a moment to speak—not really—about my coming to Port Charles—”

Mac held up a hand. “It’s fine,” he told her. “I know the department will be in good hands for you, and I’ve been preparing to be fired since Ned announced he was running.” He hesitated. “I was surprised you accepted. I thought you were happy living in Pine Valley—”

“I was,” Anna said slowly. “But after losing Leora last winter…” She pressed her lips together, looked away as Mac remained silent. Anna’s daughter with David Hayward had been stillborn the previous January. “She was supposed to be my chance to get right,” she murmured. “After losing so much time with Robin, after losing that baby with Duke—” She forced a smile. “I needed to change something. When Ned contacted me, I honestly didn’t think twice. I’m sure I should have—”

Mac shook his head, leaned against the counter. “Anna, really—”

“Mac, come now. We’re still _family_. You raised my little girl—she’s so perfect, so bright and beautiful—and _you_ did what Robert and I couldn’t.” Anna set her water glass in the sink, then folded her arms. “You can be honest with me.”

“I wasn’t…” Mac waited. “I wasn’t thrilled,” he finally said. “I knew I was getting fired. I’d convinced myself it—it was what I deserved—that Ned had every _right_ to fire me. I just—I never thought a lot about who would come after me. And even though I know how capable you are—I think—”

Anna simply waited, with that familiar patient look in her eyes. Mac continued, “It feels a bit like I’m being replaced by my brother. And I know that’s not fair—I know how good you were at this job. How capable and devoted you are. But I can’t help but think Ned picked you deliberately. Maybe that’s wrong—and I know it sounds selfish—but—” He shrugged a shoulder. “You asked.”

“Yes, I did. Robert loved you very much, Mac. By the end,” she clarified when Mac just raised his brows. “And perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Ned did have an ulterior motive seeking me out. I’m sorry for that, Mac. I truly am—”

“All the same, Anna, if I have to be replaced, I think I can live with it being you. You won’t make the mistakes I did.” He paused. “Listen, about dinner with Felicia and her girls—Maxie isn’t really speaking to me at the moment. I just wanted to warn you.”

“What—”

“Are you guys ready?” Robin asked, coming to the door. “I don’t want to be late. I haven’t seen the girls in forever!”

**Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room**

Elizabeth was chatting with Lila, arranged in her customary position next to the sofa in her wheelchair, while various members of the Quartermaines wandered in and out of the room, grabbing appetizers, refilling drinks.

“Here, my dear.” Edward offered Elizabeth a plate with a few canapes arranged, then sat next to her on the sofa. “I wasn’t sure what’d you like, so I hope it’s okay—”

“It looks delicious,” Elizabeth assured him. “Thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense. You’re carrying the Quartermaine heir. You need your strength.”

“He says that like I’m not _right_ here,” Dillon offered as he passed by them with a roll of his eyes. Edward waved him away as Elizabeth grinned.

“How _are_ you feeling, dearest?” Lila asked. “I’m surprised Jason isn’t with you today.”

Elizabeth managed a thin smile. “There was a last minute thing that came up at work. He promised he’d be here for dinner.” She looked over at Edward who had opened his mouth, probably to complain. “You know how work can be. I’m sure you missed a few dinners.”

“Well, naturally, but—” Edward hesitated, caught Lila’s warning glare. “Of course, some things can’t wait. I was fortunate enough to find a woman who understood.”

“I’m actually excited to be invited this year,” Elizabeth told them. “Emily and I have a bet going on whether we get turkey or pizza.”

“Well, we do have the local pizzeria on standby,” Ned admitted with a grin as he passed by, a flute of champagne in his hand. “But maybe—”

“This family,” Edward muttered. “You never said how you’re feeling.” He furrowed his brow. “Lois said you were dizzy a few weeks ago. Is that reprobate not taking care of you?”

“Edward,” Lila said, pleasantly. “No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth assured them both. “I’ve been tired a lot lately, but that’s normal. I’m actually going to have an ultrasound in a few weeks, and my blood pressure is in the normal range.” On the high end of the normal range, she thought, but Edward and Lila didn’t need to worry. “Jason makes sure I take care of myself, I promise.”

“What about the future?” Edward demanded gruffly. “Are you going to just—” He gestured with his hands. “Live in sin forever?”

“Live in sin.” Dillon plopped down next to Edward on the sofa. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, do you mind? I just _need_ to listen to Grandfather talk about sin. It’s like a movie out of the fifties.”

Elizabeth smirked. “Actually, Jason and I haven’t talked about it,” she told Edward. “I’m still technically married to someone else. My divorce isn’t final until January 27.”

“So, we’ll plan a ceremony for January 28?”

“Edward,” Lila admonished. “Elizabeth might not be in a rush to get married again. Darling, don’t listen to him—”

“It’s okay. I know it comes from a place of love,” Elizabeth assured her. She looked at Edward. “And I know my grandparents would be asking the same question. Jason and I haven’t talked about it. I’m sure we will one of these days, but we seem to keep running from one disaster to another.”

She set her plate on the coffee table. “Actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “You know there’s a hearing in two weeks.”

“I do,” Edward offered with a scowl. “And I am _livid_. All that money I’ve donated and these _damn_ politicians can’t get one thing right—”

“You have a lot of friends in high places,” Elizabeth said. She touched his arm. “Maybe you’ve already done it, but I was wondering if you might make a few phone calls.”

Edward hesitated. “Well, I didn’t want—” He flushed slightly. “I was worried I’d mess things up—”

“Maxie said that Hilary Clinton called the PCPD after what happened to Brooke,” Dillon said, and the three of them looked at the teenager. He shrugged. “She said it freaked Mac and Floyd out.”

“Exactly. With Emily’s case, you leaned on Floyd, who is…” Elizabeth searched for a word that was appropriate to use with Edward and Lila.

“An asshole,” Lila offered delicately.

“Uh—” Elizabeth blinked at her. “Yes. I don’t know if you could get someone like Hilary Clinton again, but—I don’t know. The federal government is threatening to derail the prosecution of a serial rapist responsible for at least seven rapes in Port Charles and three more in Buffalo. How is this something that isn’t making national news?”

“We’re all coming down to Syracuse,” Dillon told Elizabeth. “Lucas organized a bunch of the college students to go and protest outside. He and Maxie have been volunteering at RAINN and at some of those hotlines. I did a few shifts last August, and I’m going back over break. But Maxie’s been trying to get that organization and a few others interested in the protest.”

Edward peered at his grandson. “That’s—that’s very—I’m surprised. And proud.” He looked at Elizabeth. “Lois told us that you’d also done some organizing.”

“All of the women who filed police reports—the attacks Vinnie are charged with—they’ll be in the audience. Scott was able to get us reserved seating. The women from Buffalo are also coming.”

“I’m so sorry, darling, that you have to do _any_ of this,” Lila said. “Edward, isn’t there someone—”

“I’ll make phone calls this weekend,” Edward promised. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Your grandparents would be so proud of you. _I_ _’m_ very proud of you. What you’ve been through, young lady, it boggles the mind that you’re still standing much less…” He gestured. “Everything you’re doing. I didn’t want to get in the way.” His voice was more gruff. “I will never forgive myself for what happened—”

“You wanted Emily to have justice,” Elizabeth assured him. “I will never blame you. The only reason Mac panicked and created that false report was because you called them after what happened in court. You tried to get me justice, and they lied to you. Don’t blame yourself. Let’s just use that power for _all_ the women Floyd and Mac threw away. They deserve someone in their corner as much as Emily and I did.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen**

“You know, I _can_ do this without you,” Bobbie said idly as she leaned down to check the pie in the oven. Sonny hadn’t wanted anyone else in his kitchen while he cooked dinner, so Jason and Elizabeth had offered their place for Bobbie to warm her pies.

Carly had followed, and Bobbie couldn’t help but notice that her daughter was sticking close to her. Lucas had reluctantly come to dinner—and also elected to use the Morgan penthouse to hide out from Sonny. He and Felix were in the living room, watching the football game.

“I know. I just—” Carly forced a smile, then picked at the hem of her shirt. “I just wanted to help.”

“Carly—” Bobbie closed the oven, turned to her, and sighed. “How are things? You haven’t been by the Brownstone in a few weeks—”

“I’ve been sticking close to home,” Carly said. “You know, with Morgan. And Leticia’s on vacation—which she deserves—”

“I know Sonny tried to fire her,” Bobbie said bluntly. Carly stared at her. “Please don’t be angry, but Elizabeth told me. She wasn’t sure if you would, and she was worried.”

Carly sighed, then sat at the table. “He wants me to stay at home,” she murmured. “He hinted at it first—other women take two months, but some take six—and I just—I don’t see why I should have to wait to go back to work. I can take Morgan with me most of the time. Isn’t that the best of _both_ worlds?”

“It would be. Sonny doesn’t want that?”

“He can’t decide _what_ he wants,” Carly muttered. “I think he liked it better when he thought I was playing at having a job. The way I played with Deception. I treated that like a toy, but the club—The Cellar—that’s my baby. I know he gave me the start up money, but I made it work. _I_ made it a success.”

“I know you did—”

Carly folded her arms. “He just doesn’t seem to…hear me.” She looked towards the window. “Nothing’s changed, Mama. I thought it had. I thought—well, our problems are over. I left because of what happened with Ric. Because Sonny wouldn’t even think about what I needed.” And because Sonny had made a threat against Scott’s life, but she didn’t want to bring that up with her mother, who was quasi-dating Scott. “He needed the wake up call. I thought he’d listened, but he’s still—he’s still not thinking about me.”

She cleared her throat. “Sonny says that me staying here until Ric is found—it’s what he needs to focus. Like—he’s too scared if I’m out in the world and I—I wanted to help him. I love him, and I didn’t want him to spiral like he did last time. When he hallucinated. I really thought if I just…gave him a little…he’d appreciate it.”

“But he doesn’t.”

“No. He just—wants more. And—” She looked around the penthouse. “I’m watching Elizabeth live her life like Ric isn’t a factor. Because, for her, he’s not. She trusts Jason’s security, and he loves her enough to give her what she needs. They worked together so they could both be happy. Sonny tells me we’re not Jason and Elizabeth, but—”

Bobbie said nothing as Carly struggled to put her thoughts into words. “I don’t want to _be_ them,” she said finally. “We can’t be. I know that. But they have respect for each other. And I think—I think that I _do_ deserve that.”

“Of course you do.” Bobbie scowled. “Carly—”

“I’ve tried so hard not to be that woman anymore—the one who just thought the world revolved around her. I thought my pain was always the most important, that my trauma, my happiness—that I had the _right_ to hurt other people to get what I wanted.” She looked at her mother. “I hurt you. I hurt Tony. I hurt Lucas. I know I’ve hurt Michael, and despite everything, I don’t think AJ deserved everything I did to him. And of course—Jason. I’ve hurt a lot of people, Mama. I just wanted to do better. I didn’t want to be selfish.”

“Well, that’s—” Bobbie hesitated. “That’s a good thing. And you have—you’ve grown up so much these last few years, Carly. These last six months—not being selfish—Carly, that’s a good goal. _Please_ tell me you don’t think you’re selfish for expecting Sonny to respect your wants and needs?”

“I don’t know. He’s not giving me what I want or need, which is usually the time when I decide to make someone pay. I don’t want that, Mama. And hurting him—I don’t want that either. I just—” She sighed. “I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Then come back to the Brownstone. Come home,” Bobbie told her softly. “You’re not happy—”

“I can’t. Not—” Carly got to her feet. “Not right now. You know, I need to—I promised Sonny I’d do this his way until December 1. I gave in, and he promised he’d give a little. So, on Monday, we’ll—” She pressed her lips together. “We’ll see what happens.”

**Quartermaine Mansion: Foyer**

After dinner, Elizabeth took Jason’s arm and led him away from the male members of the Quartermaine family. He’d arrived just before they sat down to dinner, and having made it through an actual meal without catastrophe or arguments, Elizabeth didn’t want to take any chances with Jason spending too much time with Edward or Alan.

Jason’s eyes almost lit up when he realized she was leading him towards the entrance and coat closet. “We’re leaving?” he asked.

“You know, it’s a _little_ sad how happy you look right now.” Elizabeth tossed him his leather jacket before retrieving her white winter coat. “No, but I want to take a walk in Lila’s garden, and it’s too cold without jackets.”

Jason grimaced slightly but put the jacket on without another argument and willingly let her take his hand again and walk towards the back terrace. “I wasn’t going to fight with anyone,” he promised her as they stepped outside. The sun was just dipping below the horizon as Jason and Elizabeth meandered down the pathway in the rose garden, the outdoor lamps lighting their way.

“No, you did very good,” Elizabeth said, winding her arm around his. “But I haven’t seen you all day, and I wasn’t sure if Edward was going to behave himself once Lila went to rest.”

Jason was quiet for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah, she looked a bit more tired than when I saw her last,” he admitted. “I—I think I forget that she’s almost ninety. She—and Edward,” he added, “both seem so much younger.”

“I’m glad you came today,” Elizabeth said. “I—I was thinking the same thing about Lila when we had lunch last week, and I remember wishing I’d spent more time with my grandmother before she died.”

“I never—” Jason stopped as they reached one of the gazebos that dotted the property. He took both her hands in his. “I never had the chance to tell you I was sorry.” Their eyes met. “I didn’t know she’d passed away until Monica told me last June. I—I missed it.”

“Your trial for Alcazar’s murder started that same week, Jason. And you and I—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “We weren’t exactly close. Not to mention, Gram wasn’t your biggest fan.” She slid her arm around his waist, and they started walking again. “It’s okay.”

Neither one of them commented on the fact that it had been Audrey’s sudden passing and Jason’s absence from the scene that had given Ric the opening to grow closer to Elizabeth—helping her with Audrey’s estate, with the memorial—

He’d drugged her that night for the first time.

If Jason hadn’t been on trial, he might have known. He hoped he would have gone to see her, to talk to her. But maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have seen her with Ric and decided to leave it alone. And thinking of Ric, Jason decided now was as good a time as any to tell Elizabeth about the sighting in Caracas.

“Hey, let’s sit for a minute,” he told her, drawing her over to one of the wrought iron benches. “About my meeting this morning—”

“You don’t have to apologize again,” Elizabeth told him. She shook her head. “I know things come up, and you made it to dinner—”

“I’m glad you understood—” Jason brought her chilled fingers to his lips, marveling again just how well she _did_ understand the way he had to live his life and wondered how he’d ever thought for a single minute that she wouldn’t. “But it’s not that. It’s what happened at the meeting.”

Elizabeth swallowed, looked down at their joined hands between them. “Ric.”

“Yeah. One of Johnny’s contacts finally got word. We think he’s in Venezuela.”

“Venezuela—” Elizabeth lifted her head, her eyes wide. “Really? He—he’s gone? He really did leave the country?” Her shoulders slumped. “Oh. Wow. I guess I didn’t even realize that I—I think I expected the worst. Sonny’s had me anxious, too,” she admitted. “He was so _sure_ Ric would try something.”

“I didn’t—” Jason pressed his lips together. “I didn’t realize you were worried. I should have—”

“No, no—” She squeezed his hands. “No,” Elizabeth said more firmly. “I didn’t even think I was, either, Jason. Until I knew for sure he wasn’t in the country—hearing it—it just lifted this weight off my shoulders. I thought—God, there’s been so much else rolling around in my brain these last few weeks—”

She laughed weakly. “I feel so much better. Are they sure? You said you think he’s there,” Elizabeth said. “What—what happens next? I mean, if I can ask that.”

“Well,” Jason said carefully, “Johnny sent some men to Caracas to verify and, if he can, to bring him in. Alive.” He met Elizabeth’s eyes, shadowed in the dim lights of the garden. “So, we can turn him in.”

“So he can go to trial,” Elizabeth said, her eyes searching his. “Sonny—he agreed to that? Carly will be—Oh.” She must have seen his answer in his expression because she sighed, then wrinkled her nose. “Of course not.”

“Sonny wants him shot on sight,” Jason admitted. “Bernie was supposed to call Johnny with that order. He didn’t. Because I told him not to.”

“Jason—” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “You didn’t have to do that. I know this is an issue for Sonny, that it’s making things worse between you two. Carly and I have talked about it. We understand—”

“Ric _isn_ _’t_ going to get away with this,” Jason told her. “Just letting someone take care of it, thousands of miles away, just to—” He looked away, not wanting to see her face with such darkness in his head. He didn’t want her to have those visions in her mind either. “It’s not what you and Carly said you wanted or needed. It’s too easy.”

“Jason—”

“Have you changed your mind about wanting a trial? Wanting him to rot in prison for what he did?” Jason asked. He looked back at her. “I told you. This is up to you and Carly. Not me and Sonny.”

Elizabeth didn’t answer him right away, and he grimaced. “Don’t just tell me what you think will be easier for me or for Sonny.”

“What if _that_ _’s_ important to me, too, Jason? I love you. And I’m worried about Sonny. I don’t want to hurt either of you by asking for something that I can’t have—”

“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted with a quick shake of his head. “Sonny can, and will, take care of himself. _You_ _’re_ what matters. And Carly,” he added. “What he did to you—to both of you—you have the right to end this on _your_ terms.”

“I’m over that, Jason. I can’t speak for Carly, but that’s all over—”

“Is it?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm, and Elizabeth fell silent. “Elizabeth, every time we go to the doctor, it comes back for you. I can see it. Do you think I can’t?”

“I—I’m trying very hard to be over it,” Elizabeth admitted. “But, yes, when we go to see Kelly, and she tells my blood pressure is high, and I worry about every little thing—I had a dizzy spell a few weeks ago, and I know it’s normal. But I _also_ know it could mean a thousand things.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Because of what he did to me, I couldn’t even find out we were having a baby without being terrified. God, Jason, we had to consider abortion.”

“I know.” And he’d been the one to bring it up. He’d had to make it part of the conversation—

“So, okay, I’m not—” Elizabeth’s voice faltered. “I’m not over it. And yes, I still want him to pay for what he did. You’re right—having someone put a bullet in him two thousand miles away—that’s not enough. It will _never_ be enough. If anyone gets to shoot him, it should be—” She shoved herself to her feet, stalked away a few feet, then turned around to face him.

“If I can’t be the one put him away, then _I_ want to be the one that kills him,” Elizabeth said. “That’s how I really feel, Jason. If Sonny is so bent on ending Ric’s life, then fine. But _I_ want to do it. That’s the only way it’ll feel fair. I want to end him the way he tried to end me—”

“Elizabeth—” Stunned, and even a bit shaken, Jason got to his feet. “That’s—”

“And I _hate_ him for making me feel this way—” She curled her hands into fists at her side. “I hate him for every minute he’s stolen from my life, from _all_ the minutes he gets to have from me in the future. Every minute he’s out there, running free, living his life—”

Jason took her into his arms as she started to cry, her shoulders shaking. He held her tightly against him, pressing his lips to her hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed—”

“I’m trying so _h-hard_ to be okay,” Elizabeth managed, her words punctuated by harsh breaths as she attempted to get herself under control. “I don’t want him to win. He _can_ _’t_.”

“He won’t.” Jason drew back from her slightly so he could tip her face up, so their eyes could meet. “He hasn’t. Look where _we_ are. Look at who _you_ are,” he said even more forcefully. “What’ve you done in these last few months. How strong you’ve been—not just for you and Carly—but for all the others—for Brooke, and Ned and Lois. For the women in your support group—”

“I don’t feel very strong,” Elizabeth admitted. “I just—I keep just thinking about it being over, but it doesn’t _ever_ get to be over. There’s always _one_ more thing. We have to go to Syracuse in two weeks because, God forbid, a serial rapist pay for his crimes without making his victims do all the damn work—and Ric was supposed to be done—the trial should be _over_ —I should be starting next year with none of that in my life, and it’s still here, still _happening_ —”

Elizabeth gripped the sides of his jacket, tightly as if she needed to hold on to him to keep standing. “Edward asked me today if we were getting married.”

Jason grimaced. “I’ll talk to him—”

“No, that’s—” She sighed. “And I told him we’d never talked about it. How could we? _When_ would we have had the time? I should be able to just be with you and not think about anything else. To think about our future. And we can’t do that.”

Jason hesitated, looked at her, searching her eyes. “We could,” he said slowly. “If you want to talk about it. We can.”

“I—” She bit her lip, then shook her head. “ _No_. He’s not stealing this from me either. If we—if we have that conversation, Jason, if you ask me that question, I don’t want to be crying—I don’t want you to be worried about me. I don’t want him to take that from me, too.”

“Okay.” Jason tucked her hair behind her ear. “Okay. We’ll put it away for now. Come on, it’s getting colder, and it’s the first time the Quartermaines have made it to dessert in living memory. Let’s go back inside.”

**Dante & Cruz** **’s Apartment: Living Room**

“Thanks for making dinner, Mrs. Falconieri,” Cruz said as he emerged from the kitchen, the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. “Thanks for saving me from Chinese food.”

“Any time,” Olivia told him with a smile. “I’m sorry you couldn’t get home to your family.” She kissed his cheek. “You and Taggert be careful tonight on patrol. Lots of crazies out there.”

“Thanks for doing the dishes, man,” Dante told Cruz as his roommate shrugged into his uniform jacket. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When Cruz had left, Dante followed his mother into the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee. “Hey, Ma.”

“What’s up?” Olivia asked. She cut herself another slice of pumpkin pie and carried it to the table. She waited for him to sit down. “I can tell something has been bothering you all night. You worried about the case? About what might happen at the hearing?”

“No. Well, yes. No.” Dante hesitated. “I—I wanted you to know I’m testifying. After Elizabeth.”

Olivia furrowed her brow. “You—” She set her fork down. “Why?”

“Because I have evidence that I need to give.” Dante pressed his lips together, set a tape recorder on the table. “Baldwin has the original. I gave it to him a few weeks ago when I decided I couldn’t sit back. And since Grandma and Aunt Fran are going to be at the hearing—”

“Dante—”

“I wasn’t sure if it would be admissible,” Dante admitted, “and Baldwin says it might get thrown out, but Vinnie had already signed his statement at that point, and he’d agree to see me. I went there as family, but I had access as a cop. So he said we’ll see what we’ll see. It might never make it into a trial, but it might be okay at a hearing.”

“Baby.” Olivia reached over to squeeze his hand. “You shouldn’t have gone alone—”

“I needed to know why.” Dante cleared his throat. “I needed to understand how someone I knew—someone with _my_ blood—how he could do this—and I needed to know why Brooke.”

“What’s on the tape?” Olivia asked quietly. “Is—how bad is it?”

“What’s on this tape—” He took a deep breath. “It’s bad, Ma. He _brags_ about it. He talks about how he thinks Elizabeth is his soul mate, and none of the others were right. He said he followed her a lot—he wanted to rape her again, Ma, but she was never alone at night again.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Olivia murmured. “Dante—”

“And he realized none of the others were right because he didn’t know them. He picked Brooke _because_ he knew her. And because he knew—” Dante swallowed hard. “Because he knew she didn’t like men.” He looked at his mother. “She—she never came out to her parents, Ma. They might not know.”

Olivia pressed her lips together. “I doubt Ned would have known, but Lois…wondered. So this might not surprise her. Baby, they’re not going to think any less of her—”

“But it was Brooke’s secret to tell. Brooke should be here to tell it, and it’s his fault she’s not—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I want to protect her, but it’s not as important as making sure she gets justice. So I just—I needed to warn you.”

“I understand.” Olivia looked at the recorder, and her face all but turned green. “I’d rather not listen to it. Until the hearing. I can’t—I don’t want to have it in my head twice.”

She squeezed his hand. “Whatever happens after this, Dante, I’m proud of you. You’re standing up for Brooke, and you’re doing the right thing.”

**Quartermaine Mansion: Foyer**

Jason saw his chance to speak with Ned alone when Elizabeth was distracted by Tamika, Emily, and Monica, asking her about a baby shower. He ducked out of the family room to catch Ned as he was walking Lois out the door.

Ned closed the door and turned, frowning slightly when he saw Jason standing there. “Oh. I didn’t—I didn’t hear you. Are you and Elizabeth leaving?”

Not as soon as Jason would like. “No, not yet. She’s, ah,” Jason glanced over his shoulder towards the room where the last of the family were enjoying drinks and dessert. “Elizabeth is still having a good time.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s nice to see it,” Ned said as he came closer to Jason. “She’s been working so hard with the support group, organizing for the hearing. I’m sure you’re happy to see her relaxing for a change.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Ah, you okay? Did you need something?”

“Yeah.” Jason had listened carefully to Justus’s warnings earlier about turning Ric over to the authorities, but the image of Elizabeth’s tear-stained face in the garden had made up his mind. “About Ric Lansing.”

“Well, I don’t start work until Monday—” Ned grimaced as he gestured for Jason to follow him in the front parlor. He closed the door behind them. “I’ve been in contact with Mac. No one seems to know anything.” He shrugged. “You’d be more likely to know than me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m—” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “This is—this is off the record. You—”

“Jason,” Ned said, holding up a hand. “You and I both know that I was lucky to be elected considering I have my own history with Ric—and Faith Roscoe,” he added with a wince. “I’m not a choir boy, either.”

Surprised Ned had brought up his association with Ric but relieved because it would help to smooth the way, Jason nodded. “Fine. I’m sure it won’t surprise you that Sonny and I had plans for Ric initially.”

“It would not,” Ned said slowly. “The fact that Ric was still alive to make bail was…noted.” He raised his brows. “I assumed, at the time, you and Sonny didn’t want the heat, but then the months passed, and he was still alive.”

“Scott offered a deal to Carly and Elizabeth to make it go away. Sonny liked it. He thought it would make it over faster, and we could—” Jason stopped because what could be done was implied.

“But they didn’t want the deal. Scott told me that. He said Carly and Elizabeth wanted to testify. He was right, wasn’t he? That you and Sonny agreed to let Ric make it to trial?”

“I promised Elizabeth that Ric would live so that she could testify,” Jason confirmed. “And later, Carly said she wanted the same thing. I promised her, too. They not only wanted to testify—they wanted Ric to rot in prison.”

“Rot—” Ned repeated. “You mean—”

“Yes,” Jason said simply. “Sonny doesn’t like it. And he doesn’t mean to bring Ric in alive.” He took a deep breath. “But Elizabeth still needs this. She’s trying to be okay with it not happening, but if I can—if I can do this for her, I can—”

He could forgive himself for not being the man she deserved a year ago.

“I can’t work within my world to make it happen,” Jason admitted. “Not entirely. Sonny just—it’s not going to happen.” He exhaled slowly. He met Ned’s eyes. “One of our men saw Ric in Caracas, Venezuela two days ago. We sent a team to verify it. Those men have orders to bring Ric in alive. If they do, I’ll arrange for Ric to be turned over to the authorities. If this doesn’t pan out—I’ll—” He grimaced, looked away. “I’ll share any future information with you.”

“With me.” Ned exhaled slowly. “You’re offering to be an informant to the PCPD because you made Elizabeth a promise.”

“No, I’m passing information to my cousin,” Jason said firmly. “You told me what I needed to know about Ric once. I’m just returning the favor.”

Ned rubbed his chest, still looking a bit bemused. “I, uh, I’m not sure what to say. This isn’t really—it’s not how I planned to spend Thanksgiving.” He hesitated. “Elizabeth must really…she must really need this if you’re going to this trouble.”

Jason said nothing. Ned didn’t need any further information on his life. “Agreed?” he pressed.

“Elizabeth has been nothing but supportive since the moment I asked for her help last July,” Ned said. He crossed the room to a photo of his daughter, sitting on a table clustered with others. He picked it up. “She’d been out of the hospital a handful of days and never hesitated. And she stood up for me when I ran for mayor even though _I_ made the call to Floyd that ended any chance that her case would be investigated properly.”

Jason waited, and finally, Ned turned back to him. “Does she know that I was involved with Ric, too?” he asked. “That I gave him money and support—things he used to torment and traumatize her?”

“I don’t know. We never talked about it. Ned—”

“Yeah, yeah, give me all the information you can about Ric when you can get it. I’ll make it work.” Ned set the photo down. “Whatever I can do for you and Elizabeth, just let me know.”


	7. Chapter Fifty-Seven

_Standing in a crowded room and I can't see your face_  
 _Put your arms around me, tell me everything's okay_  
 _In my mind, I'm running round a cold and empty space_  
 _Just put your arms around me, tell me everything's okay_  
 _Break my bones but you won't see me fall_  
 _The rising tide will rise against them all_  
\- Hold My Hand, Jesse Glynne

* * *

_Monday, December 1, 2003_

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

“I don’t know where Leticia could be,” Carly said. She switched her phone from one ear to the other as she slid her feet into her flats. “Mama—”

“I can see if Lucas can come over to watch the boys,” Bobbie said, but her tone was doubtful as Carly grimaced, looking around the penthouse. Sonny had already left for the warehouse before she woke up, which meant Max wasn’t on the door.

“No, it’s okay. He said at Thanksgiving he had finals starting this week, and I don’t want him to hate me more than he already does. I’ll figure something out. Maybe I can take Morgan with me today.” She wasn’t really set up for that yet, but she could make it work if she needed to.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Carly hung up her phone and tried Leticia’s number again—still no answer. Wondering if maybe she was stuck in traffic, she decided to go ask Jason who Sonny had assigned to her.

She fought the urge to scowl when Jason let her into the penthouse because they were having the kind of morning she’d once enjoyed with Sonny. Last spring before it had all crumbled to dust. Elizabeth was lounging on the sofa, her legs up with a plate of food in her lap. Jason’s coffee was on the table, so he’d been sitting with her.

She could _really_ learn to hate the two of them.

“Hey, Carly,” Elizabeth said as Jason closed the door. “What’s up—”

“I only have a minute,” Carly said. She gestured at the monitor in her hand. “Morgan is still sleeping, but Leticia didn’t show, and she’s not answering her phone.”

“I’ll come over to your place,” Jason told her.

“I’ll come with you,” Elizabeth said, getting to her feet.

Irritated that her first morning back in the real world wasn’t going according to her plan, Carly returned to the other penthouse, Jason, and Elizabeth on her heels.

“I came over to find out who Sonny arranged to drive me today. He said Rocco was reassigned, and I didn’t need a new one until today. I called down, but they didn’t know what I was talking about.” She looked at Jason, who frowned at her. Over the monitor, she heard Morgan stirring.

Damn it.

“I’ve got him,” Elizabeth promised. “You guys get this sorted out.”

She disappeared up the stairs while Carly looked at Jason and asked the question that had been lurking in her mind since she’d woken up to find that Sonny had already left.

“He never hired her back, did he?” she asked softly.

“I don’t—” Jason winced. “I don’t know. I meant to check, but then—I thought—” He sighed. “I can track her down—”

“And the guards downstairs don’t know what I’m talking about because Sonny never arranged new security.” She bit her lip, folded her arms, and looked down at the ground, tears stinging her eyes.

This was supposed to be her first day at work, her first day leaving the penthouse in nearly a month. Hadn’t she sacrificed enough already? She kept giving and giving, hoping it would be enough, but it never was—

And now she was trapped in this room again. Locked up. Unable to leave. Sonny had never given her a key to the elevator. Everyone else had one, but it wouldn’t move without the key. She couldn’t leave without one unless she took the stairs.

Fifteen flights.

Trapped. She was trapped. Just like before.

Just like—

“Carly—” Jason said softly, breaking into her thoughts. “I’ll make some calls—”

“Sonny will just get mad at you,” Carly said, her voice breaking. “I don’t want—I don’t want to cause any more problems.” She looked around at the penthouse. “He never meant to keep his promise, did he?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “I guess I just assumed—” He took a deep breath and went across to the landline. He picked it up, dialed. “Hey. Mike, who do we have that can take Carly today? She’s going back to work—” He waited, then winced. “Okay. Yeah, thanks.” He put the phone back on the hook, looked back at her. “Sonny, ah, sent a few extra guards to Puerto Rico over the weekend.”

“A few?” Carly asked.

“Anyone who wasn’t assigned here,” Jason said. “He didn’t—” He looked away. “He didn’t tell me.”

“I can’t leave without a key anyway,” Carly said. She closed her eyes. Trapped. Never getting out. Never leaving—

“She can take Cody,” Elizabeth said from the bottom of the stairs, Morgan cradled against her chest. She walked towards them. “Cody has a key,” she told Carly. “And Jason will get you one. Won’t you?” Elizabeth turned to Jason, who didn’t even hesitate.

“By the time you come home.”

“Won’t you need Cody?” Carly asked, her spirits slightly buoyed. “Won’t—Sonny made sure I couldn’t go—won’t he be mad—”

“Cody is my guard, isn’t he?” Elizabeth hesitated. “If it’s okay with him, I’ll take the heat. I will,” she insisted when Jason just frowned at her. “I can just say you didn’t know, and I didn’t think it’d be an issue. Because it’s not—”

“You’re not going to lie to Sonny, Elizabeth,” Jason said, a little exasperated. “I don’t need to be protected.”

“But—” Carly began.

“I was staying in today anyway,” Elizabeth said. “And I’ll watch Morgan if you want. I need the practice anyway.” She bounced the infant slightly. “We’ll have one of these in five months.”

Jason stared at Morgan as if the thought had just occurred to him. “Uh—”

“Go to work, Carly,” Elizabeth told her. “Jason will help me get whatever Morgan needs, and we’ll get something set up at the penthouse. He’ll pick up Michael.” She looked at Jason. “Go tell Cody.”

He frowned at her but couldn’t find a reason to argue, so he left the penthouse. Carly cleared her throat. “Thanks. I mean, for—for offering to cover with Sonny. I really don’t want to make things worse, and I know Jason and Sonny are already arguing all the time about this stuff—”

“Some things are worth the argument. Jason just doesn’t want me to get in a yelling match with Sonny.” Elizabeth looked at Carly. “Are you okay?” she asked softly. “You look pale, and your breathing—it’s a little shallow. Are you—” She hesitated. “Are you having an episode?”

Carly wanted to snap at her, wanted to scream—but she knew Elizabeth was asking from a place of experience. Knew that Elizabeth had also battled acute stress disorder and could likely recognize the signs.

“I don’t want to,” Carly said, not willing to say yes. “It’s over. I made it over. I fixed it. I’m okay. This isn’t the same.”

“No, it’s not the same.” Elizabeth reached out with her free hand to gently squeeze Carly’s hand. “And you’re leaving in a minute. Jason will make it okay.”

“He always makes it okay.” Her lungs expanded, and Carly drew in her first easy breath as Jason returned with Cody in tow. He handed Carly a key. “This is my copy of the elevator key,” he told her as Carly accepted it. “I’m staying in with Elizabeth—”

“You have work—” Elizabeth protested.

“And you just gave your guard to Carly,” Jason reminded her simply. He looked back at Carly. “Cody has a key, but now you have one of your own. You can leave at any time.”

Because she knew Jason saw more than she wanted him to, Carly just nodded and looked at the guard behind Jason. “Thank you. I promise you won’t get into any trouble for this.”

“Not a problem, Mrs. C. Jason said it was all squared away. You heading over to The Cellar?” Cody asked.

“Yes.” Carly smiled, even it was a tremulous one. She clenched her hand around the key in her hand, clutching it the way she might cling to a piece of wood in the middle of the ocean. “I’m going to work.”

**PCPD: Interrogation Room**

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Cruz looked around the room, confused. “Why are we meeting here?”

“Because I wanted to just talk with the three of you,” Taggert said entering the room behind Cruz and closing the door behind him. He nodded at Cruz, and at Dante and Lucky already seated at the table. “We’re going to Syracuse next week for the hearing. Mac will be with us.”

“All of us can go?” Cruz asked, furrowing his brow. “Is that okay?”

“For a few hours, yes. Mac wants to make sure the PCPD’s best and brightest are in the room when U.S. Attorney argues we’re corrupt. Mac has been subpoenaed, and I’m on Scott’s list.” Taggert hesitated. “But hopefully I won’t have to testify. Because Scott’s got two witnesses that should shut everything down.”

“Two?” Lucky repeated, with a frown. He looked at Dante who was staring at the table. “Dante?”

“I’m testifying,” Dante said, grimly. He took a deep breath, looked at his fellow rookies. “Elizabeth and _me_.”

“You? How—why?” Cruz shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. About what?”

“Play it for them,” Taggert said softly, so Dante took out his audio recorder, set it on the table, then pressed play.

_“Hey, cuz. Bad day?”_

_“Go to hell.”_

Lucky stared at the machine. “Is that you—and—”

_“Just found out my cousin is a dirty cop who brutally raped seven women that we know of, so I don’t know, I kind of think I’m already there. Why Brooke?”_

_“What? What?”_

_“You knew her. You went to her Communion. Her birthday parties. She and the Cerullos—they’re family. Why Brooke?”_

_“You really wanna know? I mean, Dante, if you really wanna know, I’ll tell you.”_

_“Yeah, Vin. I really wanna know.”_

_“I thought it would be like the first time.” Vinnie’s voice turned slightly wistful. “You know the first time you’re with a girl, and it’s everything you pictured? Everything you fantasized about? I kept trying to figure out why it was never right.”_

_“That’s what you always told them. It was never right.”_

_“You didn’t know Elizabeth back then. You should get some pictures.” Vinnie laughed, a slow, smooth chuckle like they were trading stories in a bar. “She was hot. I saw her when she first moved here that summer. High cut shorts, low cut tops. Oh, man. She had a way of smiling at you—”_

“She was sixteen, you fucking piece of—” Lucky broke off, shoved out of his chair as the tape continued.

_“Why didn’t you just ask her out?”_

_“Thought about it. But I figured her old bat of a grandmother wouldn’t like it. Would tell her no. I’m not that much older than her, but you know how some bitches are about that shit.”_

_“That doesn’t explain Brooke—”_

_“For months, I followed her around, waiting for an opening. Hoping she’d look at me, that she’d give me that smile—but that night at the movies—I saw her dress. She wanted it, man. Dressed in that slutty red dress, mmm….”_

_“Get to Brooke—”_

_“I thought about going after Elizabeth again. Followed her a couple of times, but she never went anywhere alone at dark again.”_

“You were right,” Cruz breathed, looking at Lucky’s grim, pale face. “He did stalk her.”

_“So, I tried to find someone else. Someone who looked like her. I followed them, just like her. They had her hair—and you know, if they stopped at the fountain—it was a sign that it was meant to be.”_

_Vinnie sighed, almost sadly._ _“But it was never right. They never smelled right. Their hair never felt right against my skin. I thought…I thought maybe I had to know her. I had to want her. When I saw Brooke at the theater, I saw her go into the park, and man, I just knew it would be right. I knew it would feel good. And I knew I’d be her first. That would make it special. Like it was with Elizabeth.”_

_“How’d you know—How’d you know you’d be—”_

_“I caught her once with the Graziano girl. She was a lesbo. Never drove stick, you know? Maybe part of me wanted to make her understand what she’d been missing—”_

Cruz’s head snapped over to Dante. “What?”

_“I read her statement, Vinnie. You beat her. Like the others.”_

_“Brooke—I figured out what I’d been doing wrong with Brooke. All those girls—it didn’t matter if they were virgins. If they stopped at the fountain. If they were young or brunette. Valentine’s Day didn’t work. Even if I knew them. It would never be right. It would never be as good as the first time. It needed to be her.”_

_“So that’s why you went back. Why you went after Elizabeth Webber.”_

_“She’s my soul mate.” Vinnie sighed happily. “She doesn’t understand that yet. But she will. One day. Sorry about Brooke. I should have figured it out a long time ago. That’s on me.”_

_“Yeah.” Dante’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Yeah, that’s on you.”_

The tape clicked to a stop as Cruz let his head drop to the table, trying to take it in while Lucky, across the room, had his fists clenched. “When did you make that tape?” he demanded.

“After the plea agreement, before he was moved to the County lockup.” Dante looked at his best friend. “I didn’t—I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t think about it. I didn’t want to. I just wanted him to disappear. No one needed to hear it. He’d made the deal—”

“Is this even admissible?” Cruz asked dully. He lifted his head, focused on Taggert. “He had a lawyer—”

“Vinnie never invoked. He kept talking, and you’ll note that Dante didn’t push beyond a few questions, and the entire conversation sounds like two people who know each other. Dante walked in there as Vinnie’s cousin, Brooke’s friend.”

“Still—”

“It’s not being used as evidence of his guilt, but evidence that he wasn’t framed. Scott intends to use it to impeach any statement made to suggest the PCPD wanted to scapegoat Vinnie.” Taggert met Dante’s eyes. “Because that tape makes it very clear _no one_ wanted it to be Vinnie Esposito. And he freely admitted his crimes. He was proud of them.”

“Brooke’s parents,” Cruz asked. He cleared his throat. “Do they know?”

“About the statement or Brooke?” Dante asked. “Neither. I don’t think. My mother thinks Lois suspected.” He looked at Lucky. “Elizabeth doesn’t know either.”

“I’ll warn her,” Taggert said. “She shouldn’t hear that for the first time in open court. And I’ll get in contact with Ned and Lois.”

Dante sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you guys—”

“I don’t care about that,” Lucky bit out. “I’m sorry you had to live with it. I’m sorry that he’s your cousin, and that you have to testify, but damn it—” He met Dante’s eyes. “I’m _glad_ you did it. He can’t run from this. And—” He swallowed. “We wanted to know why. Now we know.”

“Now we know,” Dante repeated.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Jason placed the phone back on the hook and looked at Elizabeth as she lifted Morgan from the sofa after changing his diaper. “Carly’s on her way up—”

“Oh, man—” Michael scowled from his position sprawled on his stomach, a Playstation controller in his hands. “I don’t wanna stop playing—tell Mommy I’m not going home yet—”

Elizabeth smirked and walked over to Jason at the desk, handing him the baby. “I guess that answers my question about why we have a collection of video games.”

“Sonny doesn’t like them, so Carly keeps them here,” Jason said simply. He adjusted Morgan in his arms, holding him higher against his chest. “You still got time, buddy,” he told Michael. “Mommy and I have to talk about some things when she gets here.”

Michael pumped his fist in the air and returned his attention to his game. Elizabeth leaned against the desk, folding her arms. “I’m surprised Sonny didn’t call all day,” she said.

“I’m not.” Jason started to walk towards the sofa, then turned and walked back towards the door, the slow, steady movement soothing Morgan as he drifted into another light doze. She smiled, watching him. He glanced over. “What?”

“Nothing. Just like watching you with him. Why aren’t you surprised?” she asked.

“Because Sonny knows what I’d say to him.” Jason paused. “Carly said she called him a few times this morning—before and after she went to work. He never picked up.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “What do you think she’s going to do? I mean, she moved back in to make Sonny’s life easier. To make your life easier. And—” She glanced over at Michael, lowering her voice a bit more. “This morning—she just seemed so sad.”

“I know.” Jason was quiet for a moment. “Whatever she needs, I’ll make it happen.”

“I know you will.”

There was a light knock on the door, then Carly pushed it open. “Hey.” She stepped inside. “Where are my guys?”

“Mommy!” Michael paused his game, then ran over to hug her tightly. “Uncle Jason picked me up today! Can he pick me up every day?”

“Probably not, Mr. Man, but maybe we can do another day sometime.” Carly kissed the top of his head, then gratefully took Morgan from Jason. “Hey, baby boy. How was he?”

“Good as gold,” Elizabeth said. “Thanks for letting him hang out with us all day. Um, Jason and I were gonna do pizza or something for dinner. Do you want to hang out? Michael can get more video time in.”

“Sure, yeah. Um, I’m not really looking forward to Sonny coming home,” Carly said. She smiled grimly. “And I guess we should talk about it,” she said to Jason.

“Yeah. We’ll go upstairs,” Jason told Elizabeth. “Get whatever you want from the pizzeria.” He gestured with his head for Carly to follow him. She handed the baby back to Elizabeth, who went over to the sofa with Michael.

“Thank you again for today,” Carly said when they reached the top of the stairs. “Not just watching the boys—Michael loves being with you, so that was great. But just—for Cody and the key—” She turned to face him in the hallway. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Carly—”

“Have you guys picked what room you want for the baby?” Carly asked. She walked down the hallway again, glancing into some of the open guest rooms. “Or are you just going to use the room across the hall from the master?”

“Across from ours,” Jason said as she went into the room. “Carly—”

“It’s got a great view of the harbor—I like our penthouse, but I wish we had this corner of the building sometimes. To see out over the lake—” Carly stood at the window, looking out. The room was still bare—Jason had never put any furniture in here, and the windows had no curtains.

The sun had already started to dip below the horizon, but the view of Lake Ontario stretched out, disappearing into the distance. “Carly,” he tried again. “I think we need to talk about what happened.”

“I think the view of downtown makes me feel confined,” Carly said as if he’d never spoken. “The Brownstone—my room there is on the first floor in the back—you know, Mama’s got a great yard, and there’s a lot of trees—” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she said finally. She turned to look at him. “We had an agreement. I’d go back to work. I’d get my life back. He had three weeks to find Ric while I stayed inside.” She paused. “Were you able to find out about Leticia?”

“Yeah. I made some calls. She—she took another job. She said she was sorry to leave, but she’d already signed a contract—Sonny tried to get her back, Carly. But it was too late.”

“I guess it was too much to hope.” Carly rubbed her arm lightly. “Okay. Well, I’ll—I’ll figure something out. Thanks.” She met his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll talk to Sonny and see what happens.”

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

It was almost five before Sonny finally ventured home that day. He’d ignored Carly’s calls all day, knowing if something was wrong that Jason would have called him. He was sure that Carly would be angry, but he could deal with her anger. He just wanted her to be safe. He wanted her where he could always find her.

They’d get Ric soon, Sonny was sure of it, and then they could talk about life afterward, but Sonny wasn’t going to be weak like Jason. Wasn’t going to let a _woman_ tell him how to do the job. Carly was in danger, and he was going to protect her.

He’d failed her once. He wouldn’t do it again.

He walked inside the penthouse, bracing himself. “Carly?” he called. “I’m home.”

There was no callback, no angry yell, no huffing or exasperated wife. No sounds of his children at all.

A strange feeling crawled up Sonny’s back as he stepped towards the stairs. “Carly?” he called, raising his voice even louder. “Michael? Hey—let’s—” Panic licked at the back of his throat. Still no answer. Carly might be giving him the silent treatment, but Michael wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t do that.

Sonny jogged up the stairs, telling himself that Michael was playing a game, that Carly was just angry. “Let’s order pizza for dinner, buddy!” he called, shoving open Michael’s door.

His room was empty, the bed made that morning, and his toys spilling out of the box in the corner. “Michael?” he repeated.

He was striding more quickly now, towards Morgan’s nursery. Surely his infant son was sleeping. Maybe Carly and Michael were with him in his room—maybe it’d be okay—that was it. They were all quiet in Morgan’s room because he was sleeping, and Sonny didn’t want to wake him up either.

He shoved open the door to the nursery.

No wife sitting in the rocking chair. No child playing on the floor. No baby in the crib.

“Lose something?”

Beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, Sonny whirled around, and his heart seized. In the shadows of the hallway, just outside the master bedroom, leaning against the door in that pink dress she’d worn that night…

Lily smiled at him, tipping her head to the side. “Lose your wife again?”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

“Hey, ‘Lizabeth, is there more pizza?” Michael asked as he abandoned his Playstation controller on the ground and leaned over the coffee table, peering into the box. “Do we gots pepperoni?”

“Have,” Carly corrected. “You can have _one_ more slice—”

“Two,” Michael said, flashing his mother a grin. “Uncle Lucas says men work up appetites playing games.”

“Uncle Lucas,” Carly muttered as Michael nipped both slices out of the box and slapped them on his plate. Then he settled himself on the floor again.

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose when Jason emerged from the kitchen, a glass of water in one hand while the other was clenched into a fist. “Already?” she sighed as Jason handed her the glass, then dropped two pills into her hand.

“Every night, same time,” Jason reminded her. He sat next to them on the sofa and took the last slice of cheese.

“They taste like chalk,” she muttered, but she slipped them between her lips, then drank the water.

Carly opened her mouth to ask, but Michael beat her to it. “You sick, ‘Lizabeth?” he asked. “Why you got pills?”

“I have to take pills every day to make sure my lungs don’t get clogged up again,” Elizabeth told him. “They keep my blood healthy.”

“Oh. Good.” Not interested in anymore, Michael immersed himself in his game and pizza.

“You’re still on blood thinners?” Carly frowned. “How long do you have to take those?”

“Well, most of the time, you can stop them after three months—which would have been in October, but with the baby—” Elizabeth settled her hand over the curve of her belly, which was slightly larger now than it had been a few weeks ago. “Kelly and Monica are concerned about clots.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess—I forgot.” Carly glanced at Jason, whose expression was pinched. “But things are fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said. “Everything looks great.” She looked over at Jason, tapped his cheek with her index finger. “Kelly and Monica said everything looked great last month, remember? And Monica just saw me on Thanksgiving. She made me do my blood pressure right after dinner.”

“It was high,” Jason muttered.

“At the high end of the _normal_ range,” Elizabeth said. Carly lifted her brows—it was the first time she’d seem them do anything even close to argue, and she wondered if Elizabeth was being too glib or if Jason was too worried.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better—” Carly said. She grimaced, looking at the clock. “I should probably get the boys home. Thanks for dinner.”

“Any time. We had fun with them today,” Elizabeth told her.

“And thank you for tracking Leticia down,” Carly said to Jason. “I’m sorry that she took another job, but at least I can contact her and apologize.” She looked at Michael. “You almost ready to go?”

“Not yet, Mom, I gotta kill the boss, and I still gots pizza—” Michael scowled. “I died. Damn it.”

“Michael!” Carly hissed. She glared at Jason. “Where did he hear that language?”

“Have you _met_ you?” Jason asked with a squint.

Carly poked him in the arm, then looked at Michael. “Fine, Michael, but we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

**Corinthos Penthouse: Upstairs Hallway**

Sonny shook his head. “Not here. You’re not—” He cleared his throat. “You’re not here.”

Lily’s smile faded, and her lips curved into a pout instead. “You don’t want me here? You _never_ wanted me. You didn’t _love_ me.”

“No, that’s not—” Sonny reached out to touch her, to reassure her, but then he fell into the door, blinking.

He turned around. She wasn’t behind him. She wasn’t anywhere.

Sonny took a deep breath. She wasn’t there. She was dead, and he was _fine_. And Carly was inside. Of course she was. All three of them. Maybe taking a nap.

He pushed open the bedroom door, quietly this time. This was the last place they could be, and he knew he didn’t want to wake them—

But the bedroom was empty, the bed neatly made. Sonny stared at it, as if not computing the scene in front of him. Carly wasn’t here. But she had to be here. She couldn’t leave. He’d made sure she couldn’t leave. He’d done everything right to keep her safe.

No nanny. No driver. No key. Carly couldn’t go somewhere and get hurt because Sonny had made it impossible for her to leave. _She was safe_.

He just—he hadn’t looked everywhere.

The kitchen! They were in the kitchen! That had to be it. Maybe they were planning a surprise—Carly loved surprises—Of course!

Sonny rushed down the hallway, his breath ragged, his hair falling into his eyes as he started down the stairs. He tripped and stumbled down the last few stairs, hitting the wall against the landing with a hard thud.

He stumbled to his feet, but then almost fell down the second flight of stairs, all but limping by the time he reached the kitchen. “Carly! Carly! Michael!”

But the lights were off, the counters clear, the stove cold.

Sonny stood in the dark, then swallowed, flipping the light switch. On the island in the middle of the kitchen sat Lily, his dead wife, perched on the edge, one leg over the other, her pink dress taunting him.

“Not here either,” Lily told him with a sigh. “Poor Sonny. Lost his family all over again.” She wagged a finger at him. “You’re not allowed to have a family. Can’t protect them.”

Sonny closed his eyes. “Not here. Not here. Not crazy,” he told himself. “Not crazy.”

“Couldn’t protect me,” Lily’s voice floated through his consciousness. “Let me die. Let our baby die. How many children did you try until you got a living one? Third time’s the charm? Guess not!”

He opened his eyes, and to his dizzying relief, she was gone. He was alone in the kitchen. Alone.

“Mi hija.”

Sonny turned, his heart thudding so loudly in his ears he could hear it. Sweat trickled down his back, beneath his suit. Behind him stood the first woman he’d ever loved, the first one he’d lost—

The first one he’d hallucinated.

Adela Woods, with her soft, dark hair and sad eyes. “Mi hija. Are you lost?”

“Mami,” he managed. “You’re not—”

“They’re lost,” Adela said softly. “Always lost. I thought you’d do better this time. You always let me down.”

“Mami, no—” Sonny darted forward, but Adela was gone in a blink. His family was gone. He was alone.

Breathing hard, confused, and not sure what was real, Sonny lurched out of the kitchen and shoved his way into the living room, out into the hallway.

“Mr. C! What’s wrong?” Max said as Sonny lurched around the corner, saw Cody standing there.

He shoved at Jason’s door, shoved it open. “Carly’s gone, can’t find her,” he panted, and then fell on the ground, fell to his knees.

“Sonny—”

“Daddy!”

“Give him some room—”

Jason was already out of his seat, springing across the room as Elizabeth grabbed Michael before he could run for his father. Sonny was on his hands and knees, staring up at the floor, gasping for air.

Carly was pale, standing next to Elizabeth, clutching Morgan to her chest, her brown eyes wide with confusion and worry. “What’s wrong—”

“Jason—” Sonny clutched as Jason’s hand as he knelt next to him. “Can’t find them. Lost them. Lost them all—”

“It’s okay.” Jason pulled Sonny into a seated position. “Take a deep breath, Sonny. They’re here. They’re all here. They came here for dinner.” He looked at Elizabeth and Carly as if to warn them not to talk about Carly going to work that day. “They were here, okay? Come on, let’s look at them—”

“Daddy,” Michael said in a tiny voice, ducking behind Elizabeth.

“M-Michael.” Sonny took a deep breath, focused on him. Then on Carly, on Morgan in her arms. “You’re…you’re okay. I couldn’t find you. I looked—they said—but you’re here.” He struggled to his feet, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head as Jason and Carly traded looks that Elizabeth didn’t quite understand.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny repeated. “I panicked.”

“It’s okay,” Carly said, taking a deep breath, forcing a smile. “We were getting ready to come home. Michael, we scared Daddy. We should have left him a note.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Michael managed. He sniffled, then crept forward until he was in front of his father. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m okay,” Sonny told him, his breath hitching slightly. He looked at Jason. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“No harm done,” Elizabeth said brightly. “Carly, why don’t you take the boys home? Sonny, Michael had a great day at school. Why don’t you tell him about it?”

“Okay, Daddy. We’ll go home, and I’ll show you my test,” Michael said, slipping his hand into his father’s hand.

“I’ll walk you guys over,” Jason said, flashing Elizabeth a grateful smile as he pulled open the penthouse door. “I’ll be right back.”

“Elizabeth—” Carly looked at her, letting her anxiety show. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth admitted, exhaling slowly. “We’ll figure that out. Let’s just get through this. Go on, take Morgan home. We’ll get him calmed down and—we’ll figure it out,” she repeated.

She remained behind as Carly left, Cody pulling the door closed behind her. Elizabeth busied herself cleaning up the remains of the dinner, putting together anything that needed to go across the hall.

It was nearly twenty minutes before Jason returned from the other penthouse. He came in, then leaned against the door, closing his eyes.

Elizabeth walked over to him, slid her arms around his waist, and rested her head against his chest. “What can I do?” she asked softly. His arms came around her shoulders, and he dropped his chin on her head.

“Nothing tonight,” he admitted. “I told Sonny that he must have forgotten Carly was supposed to back to work today, so I arranged for a driver tomorrow. He didn’t argue.”

“How long is that going to last?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Jason kept his arm around her shoulders as they walked over to the sofa and sat down. “But he said he didn’t—he just had a panic attack. That it wasn’t like before. He seemed a bit embarrassed.”

“I’m glad it was just a panic attack.” She squeezed his hand, waited for Jason to meet her eyes. “We’ll find Ric, and it’ll be over. Right?”

“Right.” Jason drew her against him, knowing that neither of them believed it.


	8. Chapter Fifty-Eight

_Stop and stare  
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere  
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared  
But I've become what I can't be, oh  
Stop and stare  
You start to wonder why you're here not there  
And you'd give anything to get what's fair  
But fair ain't what you really need  
Oh, you don't need_  
— Stop and Stare, OneRepublic

_Tuesday, December 2, 2003_

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

When Sonny came downstairs the next morning, he had trouble focusing—his eyes still felt gritty and his head foggy from a restless sleep. Carly had slept down the hall in a guest room—he’d been alone in the room.

He found his wife sitting at the table by the windows, sipping coffee with a bowl of cereal in front of her. Sonny winced slightly to see brightly colored flakes in the spoon she lifted to her lips. When Carly pulled out the sugary cereal he pretended not to notice in the pantry, he knew she was unhappy.

“Michael?” Sonny asked, slowly pulling out a chair and taking a seat. “He get to school okay?”

“Max drove him,” Carly said. She leaned back in her chair. Stared at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” Sonny admitted. “I, um—” He scratched his temple. “I don’t really know what happened—I mean, I think—” He squinted at her. “I came home. You weren’t here. And I—” He dipped his head. “I couldn’t find you,” he murmured. He didn’t mention Lily. Or his mother.

He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he’d lost control so badly that he’d hallucinated—that he’d seen and spoken to the dead again. Jason would tie him up in a straitjacket and toss him off the pier.

He had to get himself under control, or he was going to lose everything. _Don_ _’t be weak. Have to get it together._

“No, I went to work. Like we agreed.” Carly wiped her mouth. “December 1, Sonny. You didn’t arrange a driver for me. You didn’t tell me Leticia wasn’t returning to work.” She crossed one leg over the other, folded her arms. “So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to do?”

“Carly—”

“I left in September because of this—because you were not only not listening or respecting me—but because you were out of control. You made a threat against Scott. Do you remember that?”

“I do, but—”

“And you’ve done _nothing_ to fix that, Sonny. You asked me to move back in. You wanted me to be safe while you searched for Ric. Well, it’s been nearly a month. And nothing has changed. We are exactly where we were in September, except now—” Carly took a deep breath. “You’ve tried to trap me in this penthouse. If it hadn’t been for Jason yesterday—”

“I don’t want to hear about Jason—” Sonny growled, baring his teeth.

“That’s too bad. Because he let Elizabeth’s guard take me to work. He watched our son. And he gave me his elevator key. A key I’ve been begging you for since the system was installed. I shouldn’t have had to even ask.” Carly hesitated. “I know you’re angry at Jason. Because Ric is still alive. If Elizabeth and I hadn’t wanted—”

“If she hadn’t talked you into this—” Sonny began.

“So, I can’t make decisions on my own?” Carly said with a lift of her brow. “You think I’m gullible? Weak? If I had wanted Ric dead, it’d be done, Sonny. You know why? Because Elizabeth told me that she wanted what _I_ wanted. It was enough for her that Jason supported her. I’m the one with the final decision—”

“But _she_ put the thought in your head—”

Carly’s scowl deepened, and she got to her feet, stalking across the room to the desk where her purse was sitting. “There’s no talking to you about this. You’re determined to put all the blame on her—Why? Why can’t you believe that this is what _I_ want? That it has nothing to do with Elizabeth Webber?”

“Because you know how this life works!” Sonny roared, lunging to his feet and gesturing with one arm towards her. “You know it! You know you don’t get a say! _You_ never would have asked!”

Carly stared at him—and he knew, God, he knew that was the wrong answer. But he couldn’t stand it—he couldn’t stand listening to her trying to protect Elizabeth—this was her fault— _her_ idea—and Jason’s for being so damn weak—

“Maybe you’re right,” Carly said slowly. “Maybe I never would have asked for it. Even though I need it.” She stared at the floor for a long moment. “So, okay, yeah, maybe Elizabeth gave me the courage to ask. To _demand_ it.”

“Exactly—”

“But that doesn’t mean the decision isn’t still _mine._ ” Carly shook her head. “I never dreamed I _could_ ask for it. Until Elizabeth told Jason what she needed to be okay, and he just—” Her voice trembled. “He just agreed, because it was more important to him for her to be okay than it was for him to look strong—Why don’t I get that, Sonny? Why can’t I have that?”

“Have what? You got your way! The bastard is alive out there—planning his next attack—”

“And I’m locked up here. No guard. No driver. No nanny to care for Morgan, so I can’t leave unless I take him with me. No one to pick up Michael from school because you’re not going to do it—” Carly clenched her hands into fists at her side. “You promised me that I could have my life back yesterday, and you lied to me, Sonny.”

“I—” Sonny licked his lips. “I forgot,” he managed. “I just—when we found out about Caracas—I—I forgot. I sent everyone. I wanted him gone—I forgot,” he repeated. “And I thought—I thought I told you about Leticia.”

Carly stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. Today, I want you to pick up the phone and call someone home. I can’t keep borrowing Elizabeth’s guard. She has a life to live, and they can’t watch Morgan every day. You bring someone home, and you get me a list of nannies that I can hire to replace Leticia. I deserve to have a life, Sonny. If you don’t want to do either of those things, then you tell me now. I will call my mother, and she can come help me pack.”

Sonny nodded slowly. “All right. All right. I’ll—I’ll take care of it.”

“Fine. I’m going to check on Morgan.” Carly walked past him—then stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s easier for you to blame Elizabeth because you know deep down, you can’t put me first. And you’re angry that Jason can do that for her. You can’t stand to look weak, Sonny, but I don’t think you know what it means to be strong.”

And without another word, she walked up the stairs.

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as she fastened her necklace, meeting Jason’s eyes in the mirror of her vanity table. “I’m really not looking forward to the prep with Scott later,” she told him. “I wish I could skip it.”

Jason sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. “Tell him you want to reschedule.”

She sighed, sorting through her collection of lipsticks. “I can’t. The hearing is next week, and Scott wants to take me through it at least twice. I told him I can’t do it—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I mean, there are a few things—I only want to say it once.”

She frowned at the bright red lipstick in her hand. She rarely ever wore this shade—and wasn’t entirely sure why she owned it.

“You okay?” Jason put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing circles. “Tell Baldwin you’ll come another day—”

“I guess I’m just not—I know it’s important. I know I have to do a good enough job that the other attorney won’t call Mac or Taggert, but I just—” She sighed, tossing the red aside and reaching for a nude shade. “I wish it weren’t just me.”

“I’ll testify to what Baker told me,” Jason told her. “Tell Baldwin I don’t care—”

“No—” She turned on her stool and reached for his hand. “No. I love you, but that opens up a whole door that he doesn’t want. And the last thing _you_ need is to testify in a federal hearing.”

“I don’t care about me—”

“I do.” She got to her feet, sliding her arms around his waist. “I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the appointment, and Scott will take care of everything. I trust him. With this, anyway.”

He kissed her forehead. “Well, I guess testifying would be hard to explain it to Sonny,” Jason admitted. “And I already have to talk to him about last night.”

“What are you going to say?” Elizabeth asked. She went over to the closet to tug out a pair of black flats. “I know he was struggling last summer—he was losing track of time a lot, but I thought you said it was better.”

“I thought it _was_.” Jason folded his arms. “Sonny doesn’t like to be weak. Or even for anyone to think he looks like he’s lost control. His whole life has been about building power. The only time he’s ever walked away from it was—”

“When he left Brenda at the altar,” Elizabeth finished. “I remember. She was so beautiful that day. And…devastated.” She grimaced. “Sorry, I know that’s not—I know that’s not a good memory for you.”

Jason shook his head, looked away. “I didn’t want to tell her like that. In front of everyone. She didn’t give me a choice.”

“She was just so sure of Sonny. I remember sitting in the pew with Lucky and his family, and Luke could tell something was wrong,” Elizabeth said. “But Brenda was just convinced Sonny would be there.” She sat on the bed. “Jason, if Sonny is having panic attacks—he thought Carly would be at the penthouse. Even after ignoring her calls all day — he was so sure that she’d be there. And when she wasn’t—he didn’t call her, Jason. Didn’t listen to her voicemails — or couldn’t remember anything she’d said to him. How do we deal with that?”

“I don’t know.” He sat next to her, took her hand in his, and squeezed it. “But I’ll make it clear to him. Carly gets a guard and a driver. And I’ll figure something out for Michael—” He frowned when he saw Elizabeth’s face. “What?”

“I know how much you love Michael. And I hope you know that I love him, too,” she added. “But if you keep digging Sonny—and Carly—out of these situations—they’re never going to stop expecting you to. Talk to Sonny, that’s fine. But—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Never mind—”

“No—hey—” Jason turned her face towards him when she looked away from him. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

“What Sonny and Carly are arguing about—it’s the same argument they’ve been having since September. And nothing has changed. I just—I don’t know what good it’s going to do any of us for you to keep stepping into the middle of their marriage to mediate. I don’t blame Carly—Sonny is clearly not listening to her. Not respecting her. But that’s not something _you_ can fix at the end of the day. If they can’t solve their problems on their own—” Elizabeth shrugged a shoulder. “Then what’s the point?”

Jason frowned slightly, then shook his head. “I’m not trying to fix their problems—”

“Carly asked Sonny to make sure she had everything she needed to go back to work yesterday. And he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do it,” Elizabeth told him. “You and I stepped in to help because that’s what friends do. But nothing we do is ever going to _fix_ what’s wrong. I just—I feel like you keep putting bandages on Sonny, keeping him moving until the next time he falls apart—”

“That’s not—” Jason stood up, his nostrils flaring, his mouth pinched. “That’s not what I’m doing—”

Elizabeth got to her feet. Shrugged. “Okay.”

“Elizabeth—”

“There’s no point in arguing with you about this,” she told him. “Whatever it is with Sonny and Carly—you’ve been doing it for years. And I guess it works for you.” She met his eyes. “So, okay. Fine.”

“I’m not arguing with you—”

“You asked me what I was thinking, then you got mad at me. You’re the one that told me that Sonny gets like this every few months. You’re the one that told me that Sonny getting like this last year—” She pressed her lips together. “It’s why you lied to me.”

Jason cleared his throat. “Things are different now—”

“Are they?” When he scowled, Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s not—that’s not fair. I know things are different. For you and me. But not for Sonny. Because it’s the same thing over and over again.”

“Sonny will get past this,” Jason told her. “We just have to—I just have to pay more attention—”

Since he wasn’t going to listen to her, Elizabeth nodded. “Okay—” Her cell phone began to vibrate. She walked over to the nightstand where her phone was charging, unplugged it, then flipped it open, grateful to have a reason to stop having this conversation. “Detective Taggert?”

“Elizabeth, hey. I know you’re meeting with Scott later today to prep for next week,” Taggert began. “I was wondering if you’d come over to the station afterward. There are a couple of things we need to go over.”

Elizabeth scratched her temple. “Yeah, sure. No problem. I don’t know how long the prep will be—”

“No worries. I’m here all day. Just give me a call when you’re done with Baldwin.”

“What does he want?” Jason asked as Elizabeth closed the phone and looked at him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um—” She wrinkled her nose. “He wants me to stop by the PCPD after I meet with Scott. It’s probably some paperwork or something. I know Scott is making sure everything is in order before we go next week.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“No. It’s—it’s better if I do the prep alone,” Elizabeth told him. “And, like I said, it’s just paperwork. I need to get going anyway. I’m having breakfast with Gail before Scott’s meeting.” She kissed him lightly. “I’ll see you tonight when you get home—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m not getting in the middle of you, Sonny, and Carly,” she said when he gently held her back. “You know what I think, but they’re your family, and you know them better than I do. So—I’m sure you’ll do what they need you to.” She kissed him again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Gatehouse: Living Room**

“Jax said the board almost had a collective heart attack when he gave them the leave of absence paperwork,” Alexis said with a snort as she sat down and opened up a folder. “And my partners have also agreed to let me out of the partnership to work with you—”

“I can’t thank you enough, Alexis, for doing this. You and Jax. Giving up your careers—” Ned said.

“Putting them on hold,” Alexis reminded him. “We’ll reassess in a year. You might honestly be ready for new faces by then. But we’re happy to pitch in for now. Oh—” She handed him a set of contracts. “Here’s Anna’s contract. She came to my office over the weekend.”

“Kind of symbolic that Mac’s last day is also Vinnie’s hearing,” Ned murmured as he took the contract, flipped through it.

“You know if Scott wins, there’s still another month before the deal can be executed—Vinnie probably won’t be sentenced until after Christmas—”

“As long as he stays in jail here and goes away for at least twenty-five years—” Ned scowled. “I can live with that. I’m just so _angry_ that the federal court is entertaining this motion—that Elizabeth has to put all of this on her shoulders after what she went through—”

He glanced up at the sound of a knock on his door. “Come in!” he called, then frowned when Lois stepped in. Ned got to his feet. “Lois. I wasn’t expecting you—”

“Maybe I should have called,” Lois said with a sigh. “But when Taggert called—”

“Taggert?” Alexis got to her feet. “Is everything okay?”

“He wants to see us,” Lois told him. Her blue eyes darted back and forth. “I think it’s about the case. He said Elizabeth is coming in, too. But he wouldn’t tell me anything else—and he only told me that much because I badgered him.”

“Hey, I’m sure it’s okay.” Ned put an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll go in, and it’ll be fine.”

“I’m just really sick of meeting about this,” Lois muttered. She pressed her forehead to his chest. “I just want it _over_.”

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Sonny** **’s Office**

Jason was still troubled by the argument he and Elizabeth had had that morning. It was their first real argument in months, he realized, and he wasn’t satisfied by how it had ended. She’d just stopped arguing, and nothing had been resolved.

By the time Jason went into Sonny’s office to go over the reports from the clubs, he was still irritated—with himself and her for letting Sonny and Carly’s problems get between them.

Jason sat tensely through the meeting with Bernie and Tommy, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, contributing little. The clubs made money as fronts for gambling and bookies, and Tommy had been running them without fail for years.

In fact, very little of Jason’s job required him to be on site every day. He could have been with Elizabeth at her testimony prep or going with her to meet with Taggert. He hated her going through any of that alone—

“I’m sorry, are we _boring_ you?” Sonny demanded, bringing Jason’s focus back to the meeting. “Or do you have somewhere else to be?”

“No. Was there anything you needed from me?” Jason asked Tommy, ignoring Sonny’s scowl. “Sounds like everything is fine.”

“It is. Uh—” Tommy flicked his eyes between Sonny and Jason, then got to his feet. “I’ll head over to the club. Talk to you later—”

“I need to meet with Justus about some customs snaggles.” Bernie got to his feet and also made his escape.

“What’s your problem?” Sonny demanded as Jason stood. “You didn’t show yesterday—”

“Yesterday, I was babysitting your kid because you fired Leticia,” Jason said flatly. “Or were you expecting me to abandon Carly, too?” He winced inwardly—that was more hostile than he’d planned to be about this whole thing, but Sonny was just sitting there like nothing had happened—

Like he always did after one of his breakdowns. Sonny hated losing control and always overcompensated when it was over—and Jason let him do it because he’d be fine for a while. It was how things got back to normal.

Jason exhaled slowly. Because Elizabeth was right. He just covered for Sonny until the next time.

“You’re telling me you’d be happy if Elizabeth went back to work eight seconds after having the kid?” Sonny got to his feet, started for the minibar—then stopped himself—maybe remembering it was barely ten in the morning. He went over to the fridge instead and pulled out a bottle of water.

“If the baby was healthy and she wanted to, why not? You think Carly loves Morgan less because she wanted to go back to the club?” Jason shook his head. “That’s not fair, Sonny. And if that’s why you did this—”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Sonny muttered. “I just—I thought I told her about Leticia. A-and I forgot. About the guards. I’m getting someone back from Caracas.” He looked over at him. “I bet Elizabeth is off doing whatever she wants—”

“She’s at the DA’s office going over her testimony for next week,” Jason said tightly. “I think she’d rather be at home.”

Sonny looked down. “I’m sorry. Carly told me about the hearing. I—I’m sorry,” he repeated, looking up. “I know it’ll be tough to watch her deal with that. To testify. Carly wants to go, show her support.”

“I’m sure Elizabeth will appreciate that. Sonny—Carly will be safe,” Jason told him. “She just wants to go to the club. The Cellar’s security system is state of the art. We made sure of that last year when she opened it. She’ll have a guard. You can’t keep her safe by locking her in that penthouse. Without an elevator key.”

“Look—you and Elizabeth—you get to make your own choices, okay? What works for you—what risks you want her to take—” Sonny shrugged. “That’s up to you. I just wish Elizabeth would stop making Carly think she can have things that she can’t—”

Jason scowled. “What? Like _freedom_? Are you serious—”

“Carly told me this morning—admitted it—that it was Elizabeth’s fucking idea to let Ric live—that Carly never would have asked if Elizabeth hadn’t done it first—” Sonny shook her head. “I told you—I told you all along that Elizabeth put it in her head—”

Jason closed his eyes, then dipped his head down, trying to fight the urge to snap back. He was tired of this argument—tired of saying the same things over and over again. To keep hearing Elizabeth blamed for all of this—

“Elizabeth never asked for it, Sonny.” Jason raised his head, met his eyes. “She didn’t—”

“Bullshit—then how did—”

“She told me she thought it would help her get past things, but that if it couldn’t happen, she’d understand. And if Carly didn’t want it—she’d do whatever Carly needed. It was up to me. If _I_ hadn’t told Elizabeth it was possible, she would have understood. And yeah, I believe that Carly never would have asked for it first. I don’t know why you think that’s a _good_ thing—”

“Because I told you last year that Elizabeth doesn’t understand this life,” Sonny retorted. “She left because of the lies you had to tell her—”

Jason clenched his fists, forcing himself to take another breath. “The lies you made me—” He shook his head. “No. The lies you _told_ me to tell her. I shouldn’t have listened to you. She deserved better. From the both of us. She nearly got herself killed to save Carly’s life. To save Morgan’s life. And all she asked was that Ric rot in prison for what he did to her—”

“And how did that turn out for us?” Sonny demanded. “That lunatic is out there, and you’re still taking her side—”

“I will _always_ take her side—” Jason looked up at the ceiling. “I’m not doing this anymore, Sonny. We’re not having this argument. It’s over. Carly wants to go back to work. I’m going to contact Francis myself to arrange a driver. If no one is available tomorrow, I’ll send Cody with her—”

“This isn’t your business to get in the middle of! She’s my wife—”

“And she’s my friend. I’m not going to let you lock her up.” Jason shook her head. “Not again. I risked everything to get her out of that panic room. The penthouse might have windows and doors, but you made it so she can’t use them. How the hell are you better than Ric?”

He stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

**PCPD: Squad Room**

Elizabeth frowned when she saw Ned and Lois waiting by Taggert’s desk, and her steps slowed. How could this just be paperwork if they were here, too?

“Elizabeth—” Ned walked over to her, took her hands in his. “How was the prep with Scott?”

“Fine.” Terrible. She’d refused to go into detail about what had happened after Vinnie had attacked her, and Scott hadn’t pushed, but of course, it was back in her head. And now—now Taggert wanted to see them all—

“Do you know what this is about?” Lois asked. “Taggert wouldn’t tell us—”

“He wouldn't tell me either—” Her eyes stung. Oh, God, what if there was something wrong with her case? With the whole case? What if Vinnie was going to go free now? What if he could come back—

“Jason—I was wondering where you were.”

Elizabeth blinked at Ned’s words and then turned to see Jason walking towards her. Relief flooded her veins as she blinked back tears. “Hey. I thought—I thought you were at work—”

“I was, but I was worried.” Jason put an arm around her shoulders, tugged her close. “You okay? What happened?”

“Nothing. I just got here, but I didn’t—” She looked at Ned and Lois. “I didn’t know they’d be here—”

“Hey, guys. Sorry—” Taggert strode down the hallway that connected the commissioner’s office to the squad room. “I’m running a minute or two late. Come on into the interrogation room—”

“Just tell us out here,” Lois demanded. “Why you puttin’ us through this—”

“I’m sorry—” Taggert hesitated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset or worry anyone. The hearing is going forward—that’s still the plan. Elizabeth is still testifying. This is—please, just come in. Let’s talk.”

Elizabeth sighed but followed Ned and Lois into the room, squeezing Jason’s hand as they walked in. Elizabeth and Lois took two of the chairs while Ned and Jason remained standing. Taggert sat across from them, setting some papers on the table.

“I wanted to let you know in advance that Scott is calling a second witness,” he told them. “Dante Falconieri.”

Lois took a deep breath. “Why is he testifying?”

“Because after the arrest, Dante went to see him in lockup. And taped their conversation.”

“What?” Ned blinked. “And he didn’t tell anyone—”

“I think you’ll understand why Dante kept it to himself when you see—” Taggert paused. “It can’t be used as direct evidence because Vinnie had lawyered up. But it can be used to discredit any claim that Vinnie is being framed, which will help argue against civil rights violations. That’s how Scott is going to get it admitted into evidence.”

“Did he confess?” Elizabeth asked faintly. Oh, God—

“And then some. Now, since the hearing is public—and you and Brooke were both named publicly as victims—” Taggert leaned back. “The transcript might hit the media unedited—because it’s going into evidence that way. Scott and I—we wanted you to see the transcript in case that happens—”

“Why not play us the tape?” Ned demanded. “How bad is it?”

Taggert looked at him, met his eyes. “Trust me, Ned, you don’t want this in your head more than once. In fact, I don’t think any of you should be in the courtroom when this tape gets played. But it’ll be in the world, and I don’t want you to be surprised.”

He slid two sets of papers across the table, one to Lois and the other to Elizabeth. “You can read it or not, it’s up to you. But I wanted the choice to be yours.”

Elizabeth stared down at the paper, then slowly turned it over. She scanned the first few lines—

_Why Brooke—_

_I thought it_ _’d be like the first time—_

Elizabeth shoved the paper away, putting her head in her hands. Oh, God. Oh, God—Her lungs started to burn as her breath became choppy.

“Elizabeth—” Jason knelt next to her, turning her chair out from the table. “Taggert—water—”

“Got it—”

“I can’t—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m okay. I just—I heard his voice in my head—five years, and I never knew what it really sounded like, but now I do—”

“Oh, God, Ned—” Lois’s voice was trembling. “He picked her because he knew—he knew her. Because he knew her. He’d watched her grow up, and that was—” She pressed a fist to her mouth, and Ned reached for the transcript as Taggert came back in, glasses of water in his hand. He set them in front of Lois and Elizabeth.

“He knew,” Lois said, shattered. “Oh, God, he knew she was—” She looked at Ned. “He knew our little girl—she hadn’t told me or you—but I _knew_ —” She put her head on the table and just began to weep.

Jason handed Elizabeth the water, then reached for the transcript. She knew when he reached the section where Vinnie had talked about her because his fingers clenched around the paper, and his face went carefully blank.

_High cut shorts, low cut—slutty red dress—_

Jason finished the transcript, then set down the paper, slowly, calmly. But she could see his fingers trembling just slightly. “And this is going to be played in open court?” Jason asked Taggert. “Baldwin is going to let that—he’s going to let that—” He couldn’t continue speaking.

“If there’s any chance of keeping it admissible and on the record, Scott doesn’t want to put too many obstacles in his way.” Taggert met Jason’s eyes. “No one is happy about this, Morgan. But at the end of the day—”

“It corroborates my testimony,” Elizabeth said faintly. “He told me I was special. And he told Dante—” Her eyes burned as she turned away again. “He t-told him the same.”

Soul mate. He’d said the word soul mate.

“He targeted my daughter because he thought if he knew the woman—it would make it better—” Ned, ashen, leaned against the wall, looking for support. “Because he knew she was a lesbian. Knew she’d never been with a boy.”

“He wanted to make sure she was a virgin,” Elizabeth said, closing her eyes. “God—”

“How long was he planning it? Did he just—did he keep following her until she went to the park?” Lois demanded. “Or was it—”

“He must have been so happy when she went to that fountain,” Elizabeth said numbly. “Petite brunette that he was familiar with—a virgin—going to that same fountain—God, it was the closest he was going to get—” Her stomach rolled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Lois turned to her, taking Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “I know you never wanted this for _anyone_. He’s sick, and don’t you pay any attention to any of that trash he said about you—or my baby. He’s _nothing_. Do you hear me?”

Elizabeth nodded but couldn’t speak. She looked at Jason, met his eyes, and he straightened. “We’re going,” he told Taggert. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” Taggert said. “No. I’m sorry—”

“I appreciate the warning,” Lois said as she stood up. She put out her hands as if reaching for Elizabeth—to help her stand, to support her, but Jason already had it under control. He put an arm around her waist to steady her. They walked out of the room, leaving her copy of the transcript on the table.

Taggert watched them go, then turned back to Ned and Lois. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Not for—but that he said those things. And that the world gets to know them. If this is how you found out about Brooke’s sexuality—”

“I knew,” Lois repeated. “I was just waiting for her to tell me. But she never did. And now—” She pressed a fist to her chest. “Now, she never will.”

“If Scott has to play this next week, then he damn well better win. My daughter is dead. This animal traumatized her so much she couldn’t live with herself,” Ned bit out. “And I am _done_ watching him get the chance to torment Elizabeth.” He put an arm around Lois. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

“I’m okay,” Elizabeth told Jason again as she handed him her coat. “It was just—the shock of the transcript—the words—”

Jason wasn’t convinced—her face was still pale, her hands still shaking. “Maybe I should call Monica—”

“Jason—” Elizabeth’s tone turned impatient. “I’m okay. I wasn’t expecting it, but—” She took a deep breath. “I just need a minute. Okay? I’m home. I’m safe. Why don’t you go talk to Carly? I didn’t get the chance to check on her today, and I know she wasn’t going to work.”

Jason pressed his lips together, remembering her criticism that morning about getting between Sonny and Carly. He didn’t want to go take care of them when she clearly needed him — “Elizabeth—”

Elizabeth leaned up to kiss him briefly, her lips trembling against his. “I love you. And thank you for being there today. I don’t think I could have done it without you. But I _really_ just need a minute, okay?”

“Okay.” Jason cupped her chin, kissed her one more time. “I’ll be back.”

He found Carly upstairs in Morgan’s room, rocking the baby to sleep. “Hey,” Carly said, with a smile for him, her voice pitched slightly softer. “You’re home early.”

“Elizabeth had to go to the PCPD,” Jason said, leaning against the door frame. “There’s a new witness—on Scott’s side,” he added when Carly’s eyes widened. “Vinnie’s cousin works for the department—Dante Falconieri—he was one of the cops that worked your case, but I don’t know if you remember him.”

“The name is familiar—”

“He taped a conversation with Vinnie after the arrest. It was—” Jason exhaled slowly, feeling the helpless rage flood his veins again. “It was graphic.”

Carly wrinkled her nose. “Oh, man—”

“Taggert wanted to warn Elizabeth, Ned, and Lois because they’re playing the tape next week. We didn’t listen to the tape—the transcript was enough.”

“I’m surprised you’re not with Elizabeth.” Carly got to her feet to lay Morgan down in his bassinet. “Was she okay?”

Jason followed her down the hallway to the stairs. “Yeah,” he said. “But she wanted to be alone for a while.”

Carly sat on the sofa, putting her elbow on the back of the sofa, and resting her head in her hand. “And she sent you over to check on me?”

“I talked to Sonny this morning.”

“Me too.” Carly sighed, pressed the heel of her hand against her eyes. “It was like talking to a brick wall. He doesn’t get it, Jason.”

“He doesn’t _want_ to get it.” Jason leaned back against the sofa, staring straight ahead. “We’re still having the same argument about letting Ric live, and it’s—it’s not the point. Yeah, if Ric were dead, we wouldn’t be in this position. But he’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” Carly said. “I think I got Elizabeth in more trouble this morning—he wanted to blame her—he’s always blamed her for this whole thing with the trial—and I gave him ammunition. I didn’t mean it—” She winced when Jason just looked at her. “Which I guess Sonny already used against you. I don’t—it’s not like she _made_ me want the same thing—”

“Carly, I get it,” Jason told her gently. “And I told you in the hospital—Elizabeth has always said if it can’t happen that way, she would understand. But I don’t want her to _have_ to understand something like this. She went through—” He shook his head. “Months of being drugged. Of being manipulated. He attacked her, nearly killed her—” He exhaled on a long breath. “And you were trapped in a room, in the dark, for over a week. Threatened with death every day—screaming for us to find you—”

Jason stopped for a minute, then looked at Carly. “Elizabeth still has nightmares. Not as much as she did in the beginning. But she still has them. Do you?”

“Yes,” Carly admitted softly. “More now since he disappeared. Jason, I told Sonny he had one more chance to let me live my life—to get back to work—but I’m not—” She stared at her rings. “I think if he hadn’t had that panic attack, I would have packed up and left last night.”

“I know.”

“We’ve been doing this for years,” she continued softly. “Patching him up, getting over a rough spot—but all it’s doing is pushing the problem down the road. And here we are—again—talking about how Sonny just doesn’t get it. He either can’t or won’t try to see it from my point of view.”

Carly sat up. “Elizabeth came over the day she found out about the hearing. I could tell she was upset, but she’d already figured out how to fight back. She’s been fighting back since this happened. Going to therapy—” Carly looked at him. “That press conference—it was hard to see her as the same woman I watched on the screens in the panic room.”

“She’s worked hard—”

“And I know that’s true, but I also think—” Carly bit her lip. “I think she’s closer to being past this than I am. And I don’t think that’s just because our traumas were different or that hers lasted longer. Not only did she deal with Ric, but her rapist attacked her—again—and she’s still out there. Leading a damn support group—and she can do that—she can go out there and keep fighting because of you.”

“That’s not—”

“Because she has someone she can count on. Who gets her. Who listens. Who values her.” Carly closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “She can fall apart and be honest about what’s messing her up, about her nightmares, about her worries and fears—she could tell you that she is so scared that Sonny’s right—that Ric is out there, and he might come back and—”

Carly wiped at her tears. “I can’t tell Sonny how scared I am. There’s no room for me. For _my_ fears. He is swallowing me whole, Jason. And I don’t know how to stop it. Because if I leave him, I’m not sure he’ll be okay. With Ric out there like this—I think leaving would make things worse.”

“Carly, I don’t want you to worry about any of that—” Jason took her hand. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of it—”

“I still love him,” Carly told Jason. “I just—I think sometimes he’s so scared of being powerless, of being that little boy in the closet—there’s no room for anyone else. If I left and he did something to hurt himself or someone else, I’d never forgive myself.”

Jason waited a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. But if you change your mind—”

“You’ll be my first call.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Studio**

“Hey.”

Elizabeth glanced up from her charcoal sketch to find Jason in the doorway of the room they’d recently finished converting to a studio. “Hey. How’s Carly?”

“Not great.” Jason crossed over to the small sofa under the windows and sat on the arm, watching her work. “Was I gone long enough?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” She bit her lip, set the charcoal down, and twisted on her stool. “If it’s okay, I don’t really want to talk about it tonight.”

“Okay,” he said simply. He stared at her for a long moment until Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

“What? Did I get something on my face—”

“No—I just—” Jason shook his head. “This morning. You were right. Carly and I just keep patching Sonny up for the next time. Because there’s _always_ a next time.” He looked out the window. “She’s not ready to give up yet, but I told her when she is—”

“That’s all I guess we can do.” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “Did you talk to Sonny today?”

“Yeah. He’s—he’s not going to listen to me right now. He blames me for all of it. For letting Ric live, for taking Carly’s side—” Jason got to his feet, then cupped her jaw in his hand. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you this morning—”

“You did,” Elizabeth told him. “You just didn’t want to agree with me. That’s okay. We’re going to fight sometimes. I’m just—” She smiled, even though she didn’t really feel like it. “I’m not going to pack up and leave, and you’re not going to let me.”

“No.” He tipped his head. “It’s still early—if you’re feeling okay—you want to take the bike out?”

Her smile was more genuine this time. “Yeah. That sounds great. Might as well since I won’t be able to much longer. Let me just wash my hands.”


	9. Chapter Fifty-Nine

_Oh, dear, you look so lost  
Your eyes are red when tears are shed  
The world you must have crossed, you said_  
 _You don't know me, you don't even care  
Oh yeah, you said  
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains  
Oh yeah_  
\- Boston, Augustana

* * *

_Wednesday, December 3, 2003_

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Jason drew his brows together in concern when he saw Elizabeth pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “You’re not going out today?”

She blinked at him, then shook her head. “No. I just feel like staying in. It’s getting colder, and I’m—” Elizabeth pulled her hair from beneath the collar of the shirt. “I’m feeling a bit tired.”

Jason hesitated, his boots in his hand. “I can stay home if you want—”

“No, no.” Elizabeth smiled at him, but it was a thin one that barely lifted the corners of her mouth. “I think I just want to lay on the sofa, watch some daytime TV, and relax. I’ve been so busy, you know—and with the holidays coming up—” She shrugged, sitting down on the bed to pull on a thick pair of wool socks.

It seemed plausible to him, and Jason should have been relieved to see Elizabeth taking a minute, resting, and not going a hundred miles an hour. But he knew her better than that—he knew she wasn’t okay.

She had been shaken by the transcript Taggert had shown them—and still, nearly twenty-four hours later, refused to talk about it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Elizabeth said. She looked up at him, scowling. “I’m _fine_ , Jason. I just want a little time to myself—”

“Okay,” he said, putting a hand up. “I’m sorry. I can’t help if I’m worried.” He kissed her forehead, lingering. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She grabbed his t-shirt with her fist to hold him in place. “I’ll see you when you come home.”

“I’ll call you to pick up something for dinner.” He kissed her again, then left—looking over his shoulder one more time, still not sure he should be leaving her alone.

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Kelsey slowly set the transcript down on the table, then shoved it across the table. “Christ. They’re going to play that at the hearing? It’s going to be in the media?”

“Yeah.” Lucky picked it up, stared at the words again. “Taggert showed copies to Elizabeth and Brooke’s parents yesterday. He said it went as well as it could be expected.” He hesitated. “Mac is letting me go down to Syracuse. All three of us, actually.”

“Really? That’s basically the entire squad, except for Beaudry.” Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “But I guess if Elizabeth is supposed to be testifying about the good guys, it’ll help to have you and Cruz in the audience. And Taggert and Mac have to go in case the other side calls them.” Her mouth twisted. “I can’t believe he might get away with this—”

“He’s not going to—”

“No, he shouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean he won’t. You know the system, Lucky. You know how it can eat people up—destroy them—” Kelsey leaned back in her chair. “He nearly killed me, and he’s going to go argue to a federal court that the department framed him—it’s bullshit, but it’s dumb enough to work.”

“Hey. We haven’t really—we haven’t talked about this lately.” Lucky tipped his head down, trying to catch her eyes. “Kelse—you know, even if we lose next week, it’s not over. Buffalo is right there. And they’ve got a case that isn’t tainted—”

“I just—my mother was so scared—she doesn’t have anyone else. It’s just me and her, and he nearly took me away from her. If those stairs had been a little more steep—if I had fallen another way—”

Lucky’s stomach rolled as he nodded. “Yeah, I know—”

“He traumatized all of those women—he interviewed his own victims, Lucky—and he gets to stand up in federal court in front of the national press—” She stopped. “I just hate it. And I _hate_ that he keeps getting to do this. If he loses there, it just starts all over again in Buffalo.”

“I can’t think about that right now,” Lucky said after a long moment. “Scott seems convinced that Elizabeth’s testimony will do most of the damage—and Dante—this tape—he’s done, Kelse. No judge on the planet could let this go—”

“I hope you’re right.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I need to get to work. I’ll talk to you later.” She brushed a kiss against his mouth. “Call me when you get off shift.”

“I will.”

**The Cellar: Carly** **’s Office**

“Well, there’s my baby!”

Carly smiled as she lifted Morgan out of the portable bassinet she’d set up in her office. “Hey, Mama. I thought you were working today—”

“I am—” Bobbie kissed Carly’s cheek, then took the baby from her. “But I’m on my lunch break, and I thought I’d zip over to see how you’re doing.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t see a guard—”

“Don’t tell Sonny,” Carly said quickly. “Jason drove me here, and he’s picking me up. I’m still waiting on Sonny to bring a guard home—it’s a long story—”

“Carly—”

“Mama, you don’t have a long break, and I don’t think we should waste your Morgan time by listening to my problems.” Carly returned to her desk and started to sort through her paperwork. “It’s no big deal. No one except you and Jason knows I’m here today, and it’s only for a few hours. Plus—Jason doesn’t seem to think I’m in danger during the day. It’s almost the lunch rush, and most of their guys come to Kelly’s—”

“Carly, I’m not judging your security. If Jason says you’re safe for a few hours, then I believe him. I just—” Bobbie sat on the sofa and gently rocked Morgan again. “I just don’t know why I’m hearing his name and not Sonny’s.”

Carly’s hand stilled in the process of signing her name, then she sighed. “Because Sonny is still not entirely on board with me coming back to work. He let Leticia go—and then never told me he couldn’t get her back.”

“Carly—”

“I’m handling it, Mama. Sonny—he’s just—this is so hard for him. And it’s hard for me, too,” she added when her mother’s eyes flashed. “But I told you last week — I just—I have to figure out how to do this—”

“Is _he_ doing any of the figuring?” Bobbie said coolly. “What did he say when you went back to work on Monday—”

“Mama—”

“Don’t Mama me, Caroline.” Bobbie got to her feet and put her grandson back in his bassinet. “You told me that moving back into the penthouse was a good idea, but I knew it wasn’t. And then last week, you told me you were unhappy, and I told you to come home to me—and now—”

“I love him,” Carly said simply. “And he’s hurting. This thing with Ric—losing control last summer—not being able to protect me—it’s weighing on him, and yes, asking for the trial—it’s made things worse. Sonny isn’t doing well. I left in September because I was worried that he was going to hurt someone. But he didn’t. He’s only hurt himself. In sickness and in health. For better or worse.”

Bobbie gritted her teeth. “I understand, Carly—”

“Sonny and I are—we’re trying. As soon as Ric is out of the picture, it’ll be better. It’ll be like it was last year. We were good last year, you know that—after Brenda and all that happened—we were finally clicking and happy—why is it so wrong to want that back?”

“It’s not wrong to want it, baby.” Bobbie sighed. “It’s just—there’s no going back, Carly. You can’t turn back time. These last six months—it’s happened. It exists. Maybe you and Sonny can be happy again—but it won’t be like it was.”

“I still think I can make it work. I think—” Carly’s voice trembled. “I think I can still reach him.”

“Do you really?”

Carly closed her eyes. No. She didn’t believe it. Not deep down where it mattered. Not after Monday and the panic attack — she just knew she could never tell her mother she was staying because she was afraid of what would happen to Sonny if she left.

“Yes,” Carly said instead. “I do believe it. But I love you for pushing me. For making me think. Please just try to understand—”

“I can’t, but you will always have my support.” Bobbie kissed her forehead. “I love you, and I have to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Lois attempted a smile when Elizabeth opened the door early that afternoon. “Hey, thanks for letting me up—” She paused as she took in the younger woman’s pale face and tired eyes. “Are you feeling all right? I can go—”

“No, no…” Elizabeth stepped back and let Lois in, dragging a hand absently through her hair. “No. It’s fine. I was just—I didn’t sleep well last night.” She looked blankly towards the kitchen. “Did you want something to drink? Or—”

“No, I just wanted to check on you. I was worried yesterday,” Lois told her. “That—it was a lot,” she added. “Reading what he said, knowing there’s a tape out there—”

“I can’t—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, scrubbed her hands over her face. “I can’t think about it. I really can’t.”

Lois bit her lip. “I feel the same way, but I think maybe I need to think about it. Because next week—it’ll be everywhere. I can—I can go rant at Ned. He’s used to it by now, and just—find a way to be okay with everyone else hearing—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. You don’t need me going on and on about any of this—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I get it. I just—” She looked towards the stairs. “Come upstairs for a minute?”

“Okay,” Lois drawled. She followed Elizabeth to the second floor and down the hall to the bedroom—then stopped, seeing the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.

“That what I was doing when Wally called to tell me you were here.” Elizabeth went over to the closet to drag out another red t-shirt off a hanger and throw it on the pile. “I can’t think about it. But I also can’t—”

Lois realized once the new t-shirt hit the floor—that all of the clothes were red. Different shades—and some just had pieces of red along with other colors. She picked up a red and white sweater. “Elizabeth—”

“I didn’t remember about the hair until almost two years later. I cut it back then—” She touched the ends of her hair. “It’s taking forever to grow out, but it’s finally—I didn’t dye it. I thought it would make people ask too many questions—”

She tossed a dress on the pile—a white dress with red, purple, and yellow flowers. “I still don’t walk in the park at night alone.”

Another sweater—this one with barely any red except for some lettering—hit the pile. “I don’t wear bright red anymore. Not like I did before. But I could wear other shades. Patterns and prints, they didn’t bother me—I love dark red lipstick—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I came in here to change my shirt—” She looked at Lois, and for the first time, Lois saw a juice stain on the t-shirt Elizabeth wore. “And I just—I saw all this red—”

She turned away from the closet, stared at the pile. “How could I own so much of this color? How could I just _forget_ —”

Elizabeth sank onto the edge of the bed. “I can’t do it,” she said dully. “I thought I could. I thought I was okay. But I can’t testify next week.” She met Lois’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just—I can’t.”

“All right.” Lois sat next to her. “Dante’s testimony should be okay, I think. We can call Scott—”

“It won’t be enough—” Elizabeth choked back a sob. “Scott needs me to—he n _eeds_ me to set the story because the tape can’t be direct evidence—there’s—it has to be me, but it can’t be. I can’t see him again—I can’t look at him—” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

Lois put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder, gingerly. “Why don’t I call Jason?”

“No, no—I told him I was okay—and he just—he has so much else to worry about—I just—” Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. “I can’t—it’s all my fault. All of it. All the girls who came after me—he was trying to rape me every time—and he hurt so many people—and he thinks—he thinks he’s my _soul mate_?” the final word was bit out on a bitter note as Elizabeth met Lois’s gaze.

“Because there’s something wrong with him,” Lois told her firmly. “He’s wrong in the head. He doesn’t know what real love is, Elizabeth. You know that. It’s a sick, twisted obsession that had nothing to do with you. Tell me you know that. You were just a baby when he did this—you did _nothing_ to deserve it.”

“I just—I can’t stand it—it was supposed to be over, and it never ends. It just _keeps_ on coming—”

“This will make it over,” Lois said, fervently. “Look at me, Elizabeth.” She brushed Elizabeth’s tears from her cheek. “If you go into that hearing next week with half the dignity and strength you showed in that press conference, you will have those attorneys shaking in their boots. You _can_ do this. You already faced him once, Elizabeth. One on one, with nothing more than your courage and a baseball bat—and you took him out. No one else did.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t be alone in the courtroom,” she murmured. “I guess. I don’t know. Will you—” She bit her lip. “If I can’t—I don’t want to let you and Ned down. I know how important it is. I want to fight for Brooke—”

“That is not your job, sweetheart. It’s _not_ ,” Lois said when Elizabeth grimaced. “Your job is to take care of you. To put you and _your_ child first. Not my daughter. She’s—” Lois closed her eyes. “She’s gone. She’s—God, I hope she’s at peace. I can’t have you thinkin’ any of this is your responsibility.”

“I want to be strong,” Elizabeth said. She roughly wiped at her eyes. “I just—I don’t know if I can testify.”

“If you can’t, Scott will figure something else out. There’s always Buffalo, and there are other cases. Other DNA matches. You worry about you, Elizabeth. Let the system worry about itself.”

She hesitated. “You sure you don’t want me to call Jason?”

“No.” Elizabeth looked around the room. “No,” she repeated. “He’s dealing with enough. I just need to clean this up. I’ll talk to him when he comes home. Thank you for stopping by Lois. I’m —I’m just sorry I can’t be stronger.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Dante slid onto a stool at the counter, reaching for a menu.

“Like you’re not just going to order a burger.”

He set the menu down to find Lulu in front of him, already putting a glass of soda down. “I could change.”

“Sure. But you won’t.” Lulu gave him a set of utensils, then hesitated. “Lucky and Kelsey were here earlier, talking about the transcript of some tape.” She tipped her head. “So, I guess you went through with it.”

“Yeah. I’m testifying next week.” Dante picked up a straw, slowly peeling the wrapper back. “Taggert gave the transcripts to Ned and Lois yesterday. And to Elizabeth.” He crumpled the wrapper up. “I’m not great company, Lu. Maybe you should just put in the order.”

“I will, but I just want to say something first—” Lulu leaned over the counter. “You did the right thing. I know there’s things on the tape no one should ever have to hear, and I’m sure it’ll cause pain. But if it gets him off the streets for good—then I think Brooke would be proud of you, too.”

“Maybe. I just—” Dante rubbed his cheek. “That’s not how Ned and Lois should have found out about Brooke. She—I knew,” he said slowly. “She never came out to me officially, but I knew. And Vinnie knew it, too. That’s part of the reason he went after her. He wanted to show her—” His stomach rolled.

A bit pale, Lulu leaned back. “I’m sorry, Dante. I really am. For Brooke, for you, and for her parents.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be all over the news next week,” Dante muttered.

“And that sucks, too. Especially since Brooke hasn’t been given one ounce of privacy since the moment it happened. But I think she did tell some people. Lucas, my cousin, he came out to us right after Brooke died. In fact, he brought Felix to her memorial. He was the one that invited her out. I just—I think maybe she did tell him.”

Dante squinted at her. “Why does that matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t. I guess—it’s just nice to think of her as not being completely alone with it,” Lulu said with a shrug. “I think that would be the worst part of having a secret like that in a new town. I hope she did tell him. I hope she felt safe enough.”

“That’s—you’re right. That does—I hope she did, too. Maybe I’ll ask Lucas or something.” He flashed a half smile at her. “Thanks, Lu.”

“No problem. You want that burger now?”

**Gatehouse: Living Room**

Ned stepped back to let Lois into the room, frowning as he closed the door behind her. “I wasn’t expecting you, was I? I thought we were moving into the offices tomorrow—”

“What? Oh. No.” Lois blinked at him. “No, I was just coming—I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

“At the PCPD?” Ned nodded. “Yeah, me either. It’s—” He exhaled in a rush. “It’s a lot,” he admitted. “Knowing that there’s a tape of that scum saying that crap—it’s almost too much. Taggert’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t listen—”

“I went to see Elizabeth.”

Ned tipped his head slightly. “Elizabeth? Why?”

“Well, she just was—she was so upset, and I know—” Lois spread her hands out the side. “I was just worried about her. Ned—she’s thinking about not testifying.”

Ned gently closed his eyes, let the news settle, then nodded. “I can see how this would shake her. She doesn’t have to listen to the tape, so maybe she can just leave after—”

“It’s the sitting in the courtroom, looking at him—” Lois brushed at the tears on her cheeks. “She doesn’t think she can after reading that transcript.” She sat on the sofa. “And I just—she was ripping all the red clothes out of her closet—and she was _so_ upset, Ned.”

“She’s dealing with a lot right now,” Ned admitted. He sat next to her. “She’ll come around—”

“When is it enough?” Lois demanded. “She’s just a baby, Ned—”

“Lois—”

“She’s twenty-three. Did you know that? That’s it. Four years older than our Brooke. I watched that press conference from Bensonhurst. I watched her stand up there and—” Lois closed her eyes. “I don’t know if Brooke meant to die. It haunts me, Ned. We were out of the house, arguing while she was struggling.”

“I know that—”

“I’ll _never_ know if she meant to take her own life or if she just wanted a moment away from all of this and took too many pills. I’ll never know if she knew it was Vinnie. If she knew the man who destroyed her life was someone who knew her—she had a moment of weakness—she couldn’t handle it—and I can’t—”

“ _We_ _’re_ not the ones putting the pressure on Elizabeth,” Ned told Lois softly. “And I know it’s been difficult for her since Ric Lansing jumped bail. But it’s not good for you to get this involved—”

“Well, someone should! _Someone_ be putting her first—we didn’t put our baby first! Where are her parents? Where is Jason? Why isn’t someone stopping this?” Lois shoved herself to her feet and started to pace the room. “To keep asking her over and over again to relive this—the investigation, the attack—the hearing—and now this transcript—”

“Lois, if Elizabeth doesn’t testify, Scott will have to call Taggert and Mac. We might lose. And then the plea deal is gone. Buffalo might not go after him. He might go free. You want it over? The hearing next week is our best chance—”

“I just— I missed _all_ the chances to help our baby—”

Ned took Lois in his arms, gently rocked her back and forth. “Elizabeth has people who care about her. Jason will look after her. I’ll call him myself and check in a day or two.”

“I just— _I want Brooke back_.” Lois fisted her hands against his chest. “I want that moment back—I just want one more chance to get it right!”

Ned pressed his lips to her dark hair, squeezing his eyes shut as Lois sobbed. “I know. I want it, too.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Jason dismissed Cody for the night, then closed the door behind him, dropping their dinner from the Grille on his desk. “Elizabeth?” he called, removing his leather jacket and hanging it up in the closet.

He frowned when she didn’t call back— “Elizabeth?” His heart began to beat just a bit faster as he went into the kitchen, found nothing, then took the stairs two at a time, almost running by the time he reached their bedroom —

Jason didn’t realize how much he’d really expected to find her unconscious, sprawled out somewhere until he finally saw her. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, staring blankly at the massive pile of clothes in front of her.

“Elizabeth?”

She looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot, and her cheeks stained with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Jason slid next to her on the floor, reached for her arm, placing two fingers over her wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m not—” She looked at him, her eyes so tired and worn out but dry as if she’d cried all the tears she could. “I’m not strong enough.”

Satisfied her pulse rate was normal, Jason pressed her hand to his chest. “Strong enough for what?”

“I can’t testify.” She turned away from him, looked at the clothing. “I thought if I just ignored it, if I just—pretended it wasn’t happening—I could do it. I really just wanted to sit and relax today. I—I spilled some juice, and I came upstairs—I went into the closet—and I just—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “There’s _so much_ red.”

Jason leaned forehead, pressed his lips to her forehead. He couldn’t speak. Didn’t know how to force the words out. He’d read the transcript, too.

“Elizabeth—”

“I’ve been lying to myself. I keep saying I’m strong, that I can do anything, but I can’t, and I can’t do it. I can’t talk about what he did to me while he’s looking at me—” Her words tumbled out so fast, she nearly tripped over them. “ _I can_ _’t_.”

“Okay.” Jason got to his feet, lifted her into his arms, then set her against the pillows on the bed. “Okay,” he repeated as she just looked at him. “Then you don’t have to testify. Let Baldwin fix this on his own. The cops screwed up the case, it’s their problem.”

Elizabeth sighed, leaned back against the pillow, stared at the ceiling. “He’ll get away with it.”

“Not if you don’t want him to.”

She met his eyes and clearly understood what he was saying. She smiled faintly, but he was encouraged by the curve in her lips. “I’m such a hypocrite. I started that support group, pretending I had it all together. But I don’t.”

“That doesn’t make you a hypocrite, Elizabeth. It makes you human. I hate that this tape exists. That it has to be put it into evidence—that anyone else gets to see or hear what’s on it. If you don’t want to testify, I’ll tell Baldwin myself. You won’t even have to see him.”

“It would be easy to let you do that,” she murmured. She closed her eyes. “It would be easy to stay in this room, to throw out all those clothes, and let you fight all my battles.”

“Just say the word.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and her smile was bigger this time. And even reached her eyes. “I really love you, you know. I know we say that a lot to each other, and I’m glad we do. It’s important. But I mean it. I love you. I love that you would let me just walk away from this.”

“It’s not about letting you do anything—I just—I’ll support whatever you want. Whatever you need. So just tell me to go ahead, and I’ll call Baldwin right now—”

She exhaled slowly, then sat up. “I _have_ to testify. Not just because the case needs it—our case could be thrown out—the Buffalo case might take another year—Vinnie might even make bail on that —all of that is true. But I have to testify.” Elizabeth met his eyes. “Because all these years later, and it can still shake me. If I don’t testify, he wins. He still has power over me. I can’t—I _can_ _’t_ let him have that power.”

Jason pressed his lips together. “Okay. Then you’ll testify. What do you need from me? Do you want to bag this stuff up—”

“No.” Elizabeth turned, setting her feet on the floor. “No—it’s just—it’s just a color. We can put them back—” She pressed a hand to her stomach just as he heard a rumble. Her cheeks flushed. “I haven’t really eaten all day. Did—did you bring home dinner?”

“I stopped at the Grille. Let’s go heat it up and get something to eat.” Jason stood, then pulled her to her feet. “I love you,” he told her, tipping her face up to his and kissing her, then leaned his forehead against hers. “In court next week, just keep your eyes on me. And we’ll get through it.”

“I know we will.” She kissed him again, and then they went down to have dinner.


	10. Chapter Sixty

_Because these things will change_  
 _Can you feel it now?_  
 _These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down_  
 _It's a revolution, the time will come_  
 _For us to finally win_  
 _And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah_  
\- Changes, Taylor Swift

* * *

_Tuesday, December 9, 2003_

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Elizabeth stared at her collection of dresses that still fit and pursed her lips. “I should have bought something new. Emily was right. I’m going to be sitting up there, worrying about how fat I look because everything is too tight.” She glared down at her abdomen, which seemed to have grown overnight.

Jason stepped up behind her, knotting his tie. “We have time if you want to stop by Wyndham's,” he offered. “You could change at the courthouse.”

“No, I hate shopping. I’ll just take too long, we’ll miss the entire hearing—and this is stupid to worry about—” She walked away from the closet and sat on the edge of the bed. “No one cares what I wear. I just—God—” She dipped her head, took a deep breath. “The only thing that remotely fits is the dark red.”

Jason glanced over at the closet, saw the dress in question, but didn’t ask why she wouldn’t wear it. He knew. They’d hung all the clothes back up last week, and neither of them had spoken about her closet binge since. He still wasn’t sure if she was really up to this, but she’d made the choice a week ago and hadn’t backed down again. Jason was just here to do whatever she needed to get through it.

“I _should_ wear it.” Elizabeth got to her feet, walked over to the closet, and took the dress off the hanger. “He likes me in this color. He said so. The judge—he should see Vinnie thinking about that.”

“Elizabeth—”

She looked at him, her eyes a little wild, her breathing just slightly faster. If he checked her pulse right now, it would be racing. “I know he can’t use that as evidence, but before he takes this case away from Scott—before he dismisses the case—he should see who Vinnie is. Who he’s helping.”

Jason took the dress from her, tossed it on the bed, then took her hands in his. “Elizabeth—”

“I’m fine,” she told him, her teeth clenched, yanking them back. “Stop—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, tried to take a deep breath, but choked on it as tears started to slide down her face. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_ —”

“Hey.” Jason drew her into his arms, his chest aching. He hated that he couldn’t do anything more—that he couldn’t make this case go away—that he couldn’t make any of this stop. “Just take a deep breath.”

“I’m t-trying—”

He led her over to the side of the bed and took out of the portable oxygen tank they still kept on hand. She hadn’t had had a panic attack in a few months, but that terrible night when she’d almost passed out after they’d made love the first time was seared into his brain.

He couldn’t just stand here and listen to her struggle to breathe.

Elizabeth fitted the tube over her nose and switched it on. Then closed her eyes as she concentrated on her breathing. He held her hand, counted through the breaths with her, his fingers to her wrist. Jason’s own tension started to ease as her breaths gradually became deeper, her pulse slowed down.

“It sneaks up on me sometimes,” she admitted a few minutes later. Elizabeth met his eyes, and she smiled at him—tired, but genuine. “You’ve got this whole thing down to a science.”

“I can’t breathe for you,” Jason told her. He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment. “This is the best I can do.”

“We’ll take the tank with us,” she told him. “I don’t want to risk anything so far away from Kelly and Monica. I—I’m doing so well, you know?” Elizabeth removed the mask, and Jason found the bag they had traveled with earlier that summer when she’d needed it more often.

She stood up and removed her robe, then reached for the dress and stepped into it. “Can you zip it?” she asked, pulling her hair to one side.

“Are you sure you want to wear this?” Jason asked as he grasped the metal tag and slowly drew it up her back. Elizabeth turned to look at him, and he was relieved to see her expression was calmer than it had been. Stronger.

“I look great in this color,” Elizabeth told him. “I have a lipstick that matches, and I’m not—” She rested her hand on his chest, leaning up to kiss him briefly. “I’m not letting him steal that from me. I like my hair color, I like wearing it long, and I look _amazing_ in red.”

“Yeah, you do.” Jason smiled down at her, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’re going to do great today.”

“As long as you’re with me.” She squeezed his hand and then over to her vanity to apply her makeup. She picked up the tube of lipstick, twisted off the top, and smiled at the shade.

She was going to make sure the whole world know exactly how much Vinnie Esposito liked seeing her in red.

_Syracuse, New York_

**James F. Hanley Federal Building: Hallway**

Dante’s steps slowed when he turned a corner and saw a small crowd outside of Court Room B where the hearing would be held today. A crowd of Quartermaines.

He swallowed hard and felt his mother next to him squeeze his hand as Ned and Lois broke away from the family and approached them. It was the first time Dante had seen Brooke’s parents since Taggert had given them the transcripts.

“Dante.” Lois stepped forward, then embraced him tightly, leaving her hands at his shoulders when she stepped away. “I just want you to know that I love you. I know _none_ of this has been easy on you. That it’s going to get even worse, but I—” She looked at her ex-husband for a moment before focusing on Dante again. “I’m _so_ proud of the man you grew up to be.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you and Ma,” Dante told her. He looked at Ned. “I’m just—I’m sorry we couldn’t see it earlier. Couldn’t do more.”

“What you’re doing today is enough,” Ned told him. “I just—” He hesitated. “I want you to know that I appreciate you giving us some warning about the tape—the transcript—it was…”

Lois slid her arm through his, her other hand squeezing his bicep tightly. “It was tough to hear,” she said, finishing Ned’s statement. “We’ll always regret that Brooke didn’t feel ready to talk to us about it, but it doesn’t change my mind about my little girl at all.”

“I’m glad,” Dante said. He looked at Ned. “Lu Spencer told me—she’d heard about the transcript from Lucky—and it circulated with Lucas and the others. Lucas—she talked to him about it. He knew. He said—he said now that it was in the open if you want to talk him—”

“Maybe we will. Once we put this away inside.” Lois lifted her chin. “We’re going to win today, Dante, but I know—”

She trailed off, focusing behind him. Dante turned and swallowed hard when he saw his grandmother and aunt—Vinnie’s mother—glaring at Lois as they walked past. When Marta Falconieri and her daughter, Francesca Esposito, saw Lois’s mother, Gloria, standing with Edward and Tracy Quartermaine, their eyes narrowed.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Olivia murmured.

“Uh—” Ned turned, narrowing his eyes but then saw his mother step in front of Gloria Cerullo, fold her arms, and raise a brow. “Is there enough security?”

But Marta and Fran must have thought twice about saying anything before the hearing, not wanting to be barred from the room. Instead, they simply went inside. Lois exhaled, relieved.

“I’d better go over and talk Ma out of ripping Frannie’s hair out,” Lois said.

“And we should go in and make sure they’ve saved seats for Elizabeth and her support group,” Ned told Dante and Olivia. “We need at least two rows.”

“Almost time,” Oliva said to Dante as they followed Ned inside the courtroom, ignoring the Falconieri family on the other side of the room. “Whatever happens today, baby, you’re doing the right thing. _Never_ forget that.”

**Hanley Courthouse: Court Room B**

Elizabeth flashed a hesitant smile at Lois in the front row before looking back at the group of women that had arrived just after they had. Their seats were in the second row. She gestured for Renee, Veronica, Dana, and Wendy to go in front of her. She made sure to sit next to Renee, taking her hand in hers for another squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” Elizabeth murmured. “You can do this.”

“All I have to do is sit here and not throw up.” Renee squared her shoulders. “No problem.”

Jason settled in a seat next to her, Sonny, Carly, and Bobbie filing into the row behind them. A minute later, Lucas and Felix joined them. Lucas leaned forward. “Hey. Protest is still going strong. Maxie said the RAINN coordinator says there might be five hundred people.”

“Five hundred—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “It felt like thousands when we came up the stairs—” She twisted in her chair to look at Lucas and his boyfriend. “Thank you. Tell Maxie and the others the same. No matter what happens here today.”

In front of her, Ned and Lois had taken the front row with Taggert, Mac, and Dante. Behind the and in front of Elizabeth’s row, Edward, Tracy, Gloria Cerullo, and two other people Elizabeth didn’t recognize were seated. Their side of the courtroom was packed.

Behind the defense table, there was a cluster of reporters and the Falconieri family. Elizabeth was gratified to see there weren’t many people in support of Vinnie.

He didn’t deserve it.

A few minutes later, the judge called the court to order and asked for the defendant to be brought in. Elizabeth tightened her grip around Renee’s hand on one side, and Jason on the other, as Vinnie Esposito walked into the room.

She hadn’t seen him since that terrible day in September when he’d lied his way into the penthouse. He looked at her—their eyes met—and then his eyes dropped down, taking in the color of his dress. When Vinnie met her eyes again, he was grinning.

Her stomach rolled, and bile rose in her throat. She forced it back down. Elizabeth arched a brow at him as if to say _you are nothing_. His smile faded, and she waited — she didn’t care how long it would take —

Finally — Vinnie looked away first, his lawyer poking him in the shoulder.

She felt Jason’s muscles tense under her hand, and his hand squeezed hers even harder. She almost winced, but when she looked at Jason, his face was expressionless. The look she knew had earned him the nickname of Borg from Taggert years ago.

“He doesn’t scare me,” Elizabeth murmured. Jason glanced at her, but his face didn’t change. “He can’t ever scare me again. I promise.” She looked down her row, saw the other survivors with their hands clenched. Renee was looking down into her lap. “We’re okay,” she told her. “We’re stronger together.”

“It doesn’t feel that way right now,” Renee managed on a shaky breath. “But okay.”

The judge called the courtroom to order, and Elizabeth tried to concentrate as both attorneys gave their opening remarks—she knew one of the men at the defense table was the United States Attorney who had signed on to support Vinnie’s petition, but Vinnie’s lawyer was the one making the arguments.

The lawyer didn’t say anything Elizabeth wasn’t expecting. The PCPD was corrupt, blah, blah, the system was prejudicial, blah, blah—scapegoat, framed—all the things Scott had told them to expect.

Scott’s opening held no surprises either. He referred to Elizabeth’s testimony and the DNA evidence, only briefly mentioning Vinnie’s own statements.

“Almost time,” Elizabeth murmured to Jason. He squeezed her hand in response.

“I wish I could be up there with you,” he admitted under his breath. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him.

“You will be. I’ll be looking at you and remembering that I’m strong. He can’t break me.”

“The state calls Elizabeth Webber to the stand,” Scott said. He turned to her, and Elizabeth knew he wanted her to look at him as she walked to the front of the courtroom—to focus only on him—but Elizabeth wasn’t going to let Vinnie think for one moment that he would win today.

Elizabeth smiled at Jason, at the survivors, released Jason and Renee’s hand, then slowly stood. As she walked towards the front of the room, she looked directly at Vinnie, then lifted her chin, then looked away.

Scott hid a smirk as she calmly walked to the stand, was sworn in, then sat down, her eyes on his. He offered her a reassuring smile. “Good morning, Elizabeth. It’s okay if I call you that, right?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said.

“Please state your name and address for the record.”

“Elizabeth Imogene Webber, 122 Harborview Drive, Port Charles, New York. Penthouse Four.” She folded her hands in her lap, found Jason’s eyes in the audience, and felt herself settle.

She could do this.

“Elizabeth, today, we’re going to be very brief,” Scott told her. “On September 24 of this year, do you remember where you were?”

“Yes, I was at home.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have any visitors?” Scott asked.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone, but the front desk called to tell me that Detective Vincent Esposito was waiting to question me.” Elizabeth flicked her eyes over to Vinnie, then focused on Scott.

“Do you see Vincent Esposito in the courtroom today?”

“Yes. He’s sitting there at the defense table.”

“Let the record reflect that the witness identified the defendant,” Scott said. Returning his attention to Elizabeth, he continued, “What happened when you received the call?”

“I agreed to speak with him, and the desk sent him up.”

“Did you know the defendant? Had you met him before?”

“I didn’t remember him,” Elizabeth told Scott. She looked at the judge, found him focused on her. She looked at Lucky, sitting in the back row with Cruz. Let her eyes drift to the support group, particularly Renee. “But once I saw him, I realized I _had_ met him before. He’d questioned me a few times over the years.”

“Can you describe those encounters?” Scott said, scratching his temple.

Elizabeth did so, recalling the shooting at Luke’s and her fall at Rice Plaza. “If there were other times, I don’t remember.”

“Thank you,” Scott said. He held up a sheaf of documents. “I’d like to enter into evidence police reports corroborating Miss Webber’s statement, as well as six other police reports detailing incidents involving the defendant and Miss Webber.”

“Noted.” The judge took the reports. “Continue.”

“Elizabeth,” Scott said. “You said you didn’t know the detective at first. Why did you let him upstairs?”

“I knew Lieutenant Taggert was busy out of town that day,” Elizabeth said. “And I’d been working closely with other members of the PCPD. I knew his name was familiar. I—” She hesitated. “I trusted the PCPD.”

“The defense suggests that you had reasons to resent the PCPD,” Scott said. “Is that true?”

“Objection, leading the witness—”

“Sustained.”

Scott pressed a hand to his chest, his face apologetic though Elizabeth knew they’d planned every word of her testimony in preparation. “Forgive me, I’ll rephrase. Miss Webber, how would you characterize your relationship with the PCPD?”

“When I reported my rape five years ago, Detective Alex Garcia was very kind to me,” Elizabeth said. “As was the ADA assigned at the time, Dara Jensen. When Lieutenant Taggert—I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” she corrected. “He was a detective back then—when he took over my case, he was _also_ very kind. I never had a reason to suspect I shouldn’t trust the PCPD.”

“What about this summer? Did the PCPD do anything to change your mind?”

“Not the department themselves, but a few officers let me down,” Elizabeth said, slowly. “I was married to a man suspected of kidnapping Carly Corinthos. Ric Lansing. The lieutenant offered me a way out—he said if I wanted to go, he’d make sure I was safe. But I was afraid of what would happen if I left the house—of my husband,” she added quickly. “I was sure he was guilty, and I wanted to find Carly.”

She hesitated. “The Lieutenant assigned a guard for me. Not to watch the house or my husband—but a patrol car sat outside the house every day to watch me. On the day we found Carly locked in a panic room, when I had a pulmonary embolism and nearly died, Officer Rodriguez was inside with me, helping me look. Officers Spencer and Falconieri were also on patrol and involved in the case. They made me feel safe, and that feeling made it possible for me to still have access to the house so that Carly was found and came home safely.”

She looked at Lucky in the back. “I couldn’t have done that without the PCPD’s help.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Unfortunately, earlier that same day, a report was made in the _Port Charles Sun_ —and the _Herald_ —accusing me of having an affair. Of letting Carly’s best friend into the house every day while Ric was gone. The PCPD—they knew we were looking for Carly, but Detective Capelli leaked an affair to the tabloids anyway, hoping Ric would make a mistake.”

She clenched her hands in her lap, remembering the terror of that morning. “Ric was furious—he attacked me, threw me across the room—I got away from him—I think I might have been okay—but I don’t know for sure.”

“That sounds like a good reason to hate the police department,” Scott offered with a half smile. “Withdrawn—” he said, waving his hand before Vinnie’s lawyer could stand. “Did that change your mind about the department?”

“No. It might have,” she admitted, “except Lieutenant Taggert saw the paper, and he was worried. He sent Officer Rodriguez in to make a welfare check and came himself. And the commissioner immediately admitted fault. They never tried to cover up for Detective Capelli. He was suspended the same day.” Elizabeth met Mac’s eyes. “They’re not perfect, but they did their best. And I would never blame the department for the actions of one or two officers.”

“In September of this year, did you give a press conference about the PCPD?”

“Yes. I had learned some information about the investigation of my rape in 1998,” Elizabeth said. “I found out that I had been lied to—that my rape kit had never been sent for testing. The man I thought had attacked me—his DNA should have been compared to my kit. He would have been excluded—”

“Objection, calls for facts in not evidence—”

“Oh, here are the DNA results that corroborate that statement,” Scott said, cutting Vinnie’s lawyer off. He set them in front in front of the judge. “That report excludes Tom Baker from matching DNA extracted from the dress Miss Webber wore the night of her attack. DNA that matched six other women.” Scott’s smile was thin. “DNA that also matches the defendant.”

“Your Honor, Elizabeth Webber’s DNA results should be excluded based on the evidence tampering—”

The judge cut off the other lawyer. “That sounds like an argument that ought to be made in pre-trial hearings.” He looked at Scott. “Report is in evidence. Anything else?”

“Just a few more questions,” Scott said to Elizabeth. “On the afternoon of September 24, 2003, what statements, if any, did Vincent Esposito make about your rape?”

“He said—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, found Jason’s eyes in the audience, and she felt herself settle again. She looked at Vinnie, met his eyes head on. “He told me that they knew that I had been the first. That there was something _special_ about the first.”

Vinnie’s lips curved into a smile, and her stomach rolled. She’d been right—he couldn’t help himself. Without looking away from him, Elizabeth continued, “He reminded me that he’d questioned me in December 1997. He told me that I had been the first, but not the only.”

“Elizabeth,” Scott said softly when she said nothing else. Elizabeth blinked, then looked at Scott. With kind eyes, he continued, “What else?”

“He asked me if I knew why there had been other women.” Her voice trembled—just slightly. “He said that he’d tried to find someone like me. But they were never me.”

A tear slid down her cheek—she’d tried to hold it back. Scott stepped closer to her. “What did you think he was talking about?”

“I knew he was talking about himself. I knew that _he_ _’d_ raped me. He kept talking. I was trying to think about how to escape, but he kept talking. He said that he’d followed the signs—they’d looked like me, they’d gone to the movies like me, they’d stopped like me—”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then focused on Scott again. “I tried to run, but he grabbed me before I could reach the door. He threw me on the couch. He was angry.”

“Why?”

“Because they—the other women—weren’t right. Because none of them were ever right.” Her breath was a little more rapid now, and she couldn’t look at Jason, couldn’t think about him. She kept her eyes on Scott. “He told me he didn’t want to hurt me. That he’d was sorry. He knew I hadn’t liked it. I tried to tell him I didn’t want it, but he didn’t care. He slapped me—he wanted me to look at him—but—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I kicked him. I kicked him in the groin, and I managed to get away—just—just long enough to run upstairs. I knew I couldn’t unlock the door, I couldn’t get out, but I could go upstairs. There was another phone up there—” Her breathing was more shallow now, and she could feel the burning in her lungs.

She saw Jason lean forward in the audience—Oh, God. Not now. Not now. “I need—I need a minute.”

“Do you want a break, Elizabeth?” Scott asked softly. “Can I get her some water—”

“No. No, I can—” She shook her head. “I can do this. I just—” Had to remember it was over. It was over. That even if Vinnie got free somehow, it would _still_ be over. Jason would make sure of it.

And with that in her mind, Elizabeth looked at Scott, and her breathing relaxed. She cleared her throat. “I ran upstairs to my bedroom and locked the door. I keep a baseball bat under the bed, and I grabbed it. Then I waited for him. He busted down the door, and I hit him in the knees. I swung hard, and I hit him. He must have hit the edge of the bed. I don’t know. I didn’t stop. I ran. When I got downstairs, Lieutenant Taggert and Jason were there. Then more cops—it all seemed to happen at once.”

Elizabeth flicked one more glance at Vinnie. “But he admitted to raping me when I was sixteen. He admitted to raping other women in the park who looked like me, and then he tried to rape me again. And it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about the PCPD, that will always be true. You _admitted_ it,” she said softly, speaking directly to Vinnie. “And you _know_ it.”

“Please don’t speak directly to the defendant,” the judge said with a grimace. Elizabeth didn’t apologize. She just looked at Scott again.

“The PCPD made mistakes with my case, but they tried to make them right. The Commissioner admitted those mistakes, but they don’t change the evidence. They don’t change what Vincent Esposito said to me or what he did to me when I was sixteen or tried to do again in September.”

“No further questions,” Scott said after a long moment. “Can we take a brief recess so that Miss Webber can get some water?”

“Do you have any questions for this witness?” the judge asked Vinnie’s lawyer. The man hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head.

“No, Your Honor.” Elizabeth blinked at him in surprise. Scott had prepped her for that — she was ready — and he was just going to let her testimony go unchallenged? What did that even mean? She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, but her lungs were starting to burn—and she couldn’t quite drag in a full breath.

“We’ll recess for twenty minutes.”

* * *

As soon as the judge had called the recess, Jason had gotten to his feet, intending to come forward and help Elizabeth—but a bailiff held him back until Vinnie had been led from the room.

Jason didn’t even spare Vinnie Esposito a second glance—Elizabeth had done what needed to be done, and Jason wasn’t going to think about him again unless the system screwed this up.

By the time the bailiff let Jason go, Scott had walked Elizabeth over to him. “Do you need the oxygen?” he asked, worried because the security guard hadn’t let them bring her portable tank upstairs without a doctor’s note.

“No.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand, but her face was pale, and he could hear her breath—it was short, and her fists were clenched. “I think I just need some water.”

“I’ll get you a room.” Scott strode off to confer with the bailiff while Bobbie hurried over to check on Elizabeth.

“What can I do?” Edward demanded.

“Nothing—nothing, I just—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, but her vision was starting to swim— “I need some air—”

“We can use a conference room,” Scott told them, shoving through the crowd. Jason lifted Elizabeth into his arms and followed the DA through the front of the courtroom into a back room. He locked eyes with Bobbie, who nodded and hurried away.

“I’m okay,” she managed as Scott shoved open the door. Jason put her on her feet just long enough to drag out a chair and help her sit down. “Just water. And some air. So many people—”

“I’ll get the water,” Scott told them. “You don’t have to come back, Elizabeth. We got everything,” He left them in the room as Jason knelt in front of her, taking her wrist in his, feeling for her pulse.

“Jason—”

“Just wait—”

Bobbie came in then, with both a portable oxygen tank she must have gotten from somewhere and a glass of water, Scott hovering in the background. “Elizabeth, I can call Monica—we can get you to a hospital or I—”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth said, her teeth clenched, fighting the urge to yank her hand away. “I just—water. _Please_.”

“Bobbie, let’s give them a minute,” Scott told her, softly. “Come on—” He touched her shoulder. “Let’s go check on Ned and Lois.”

“But I just—”

“I’ve got it, Bobbie. Thanks for the oxygen,” Jason told her, and Scott was able to direct the well-meaning redhead from the room.

“Your pulse is fast, but not too bad,” Jason told her as he fitted the mask over her face and checked the gauge. “Just—just humor me, okay?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but had to admit the oxygen helped. She sipped the water, closed her eyes, and felt herself her body begin to relax, and soon she could take a true, deep breath, expanding her lungs fully. It had been silly to reject it. After another moment, she took the mask off and reached for her water.

“I was afraid you’d jump out of your seat,” she admitted with a smile after she’d drained the glass and set it aside.

“Thought about it.” Jason leaned against the table. “But you got it under control. You did—” He met her eyes. “You did amazing. I knew you would, but—” he shook his head slightly. “You reminded me all over again how brave you are.”

“I wish I didn’t have to be,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I could see the others in the audience—I could see Renee, Dana—they seemed to get stronger the more I talked. I’m glad I could do this, and they didn’t have to.” She played the hem of her dress. “I was right about wearing this.”

“I didn’t—” Jason’s voice was tight. “I didn’t look at him. I wasn’t sure I would—” He trailed off, looked away. “You didn’t—we never really talked about that day in the penthouse. The words.”

“I knew I might have to testify about them in a sentencing hearing one day, and I didn’t want to say them more than once,” Elizabeth said softly. “I wrote them for my statement to Taggert. And Scott didn’t push me to say it when we prepped.” She grimaced. “I probably should have.”

“You did great,” he repeated. “And if Baldwin thought you needed to practice, he would have told you that. Dante will play the tape, and it’ll be over.”

“Kind of glad the other lawyer didn’t ask me anything,” Elizabeth told him. She managed a smile. “I was afraid he’d ask me about Capelli. About the tabloids. Kind of hard to say it was a lie now, huh?” she asked, touching her belly.

Jason covered her hand with his, his fingers longer than hers. The baby fluttered slightly, and Elizabeth smiled. “I can’t wait until he’s kicking hard enough for you to feel him too.” She leaned forward, kissed him lightly. He returned the brief caress, lingering.

“He?” Jason repeated. “Did you have an ultrasound I wasn’t invited to?”

“No, I just—” Elizabeth shrugged. “I just have a feeling. We’ll find out next week. Just in time for Christmas.”

There was a light knock, and Bobbie stepped in. “Hey. The judge is giving a two minute warning. Scott said you don’t have to come back for Dante’s testimony—”

“No, I want to.” She put a hand on Jason’s arm as she stood up. “I’m okay. Thank you. I didn’t even realize I’d need the oxygen.” She kissed Bobbie’s cheek. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“Feeling is mutual.” Bobbie hugged her briefly, then smiled. “Let’s get this over with.”

**Hanley Courthouse: Courtroom B**

It wasn’t as bad as Dante thought it would be. He waited while Scott and Vinnie’s lawyer waged a brief, but bitter, battle over the admissibility of his tape and testimony. Dante wasn’t entirely sure if he followed it all, but he knew that Scott had won when the district attorney had waved him forward to take the stand.

He was sworn in, and Scott took him through the prepared part of his testimony. His relationship with Vinnie, his work on the case, and the decision to visit him in jail. No, no one had known he was going. No, his superiors hadn’t asked. No—he’d just wanted to know why Vinnie had attacked Brooke.

He’d needed to understand.

When Dante arrived at that part of the testimony, he looked at Vinnie and his family for the first time. Aunt Fran was scowling, his grandmother’s face was blank, but Vinnie—God, he was smiling.

As if he couldn’t _wait_ for everyone to hear what he’d said. Christ.

A shiver danced down Dante’s spine as Scott brought out the tape recorder and hit play.

He’d heard the tape several times, had helped with the transcript, but Dante still couldn’t stop himself from feeling nauseous as Vinnie’s words floated out.

In the audience, Elizabeth closed her eyes, squeezed Jason’s hand as she heard Vinnie talk about her.

_“High cut shorts, low cut tops. Oh, man. She had a way of smiling at you…that slutty red dress…”_

She’d thought she was ready to hear him say it—she’d seen those words in her nightmares a thousand times since Taggert had shown them the transcripts—

But everyone had been right.

Playing the tape was so much worse.

But, God, he’d sounded so… _excited_ …it had aroused him remembering that night—

Elizabeth swallowed hard, knowing it would get even worse. Knowing there was more filth to sit through—more for Brooke’s family to hear—

_“…And I knew I’d be her first. That would make it special. Like it was with Elizabeth.”_

In front of her, she saw Tracy Quartermaine press a fist to her mouth, Gloria Cerullo was crying. She couldn’t see Ned or Lois’s face. They were two rows up, staring directly ahead.

_“She was a lesbo. Never drove stick, you know? Maybe part of me wanted to make her understand what she’d been missing—”_

Lois lurched out of her seat, ran up the aisle, and out of the courtroom, gagging. Ned twisted to look after her, his expression anguished.

_“It needed to be her.”_

_“So that’s why you went back. Why you went after Elizabeth Webber.”_

_“She’s my soulmate. She doesn’t understand that yet. But she will. One day.”_

Bile rose in her throat, and Elizabeth couldn’t do it. God, Scott had been right—she didn’t need to hear this. Unsteadily, she forced herself to her feet and followed Lois out, hearing Jason’s steps after her.

On the stand, Dante’s eyes were burning with tears of his own as he watched his godmother run out of the room, followed by Elizabeth and Jason. Ned hesitantly followed them as the tape drew to a close.

_“Sorry about Brooke. I should have figured it out a long time ago. That’s on me.”_

_“Yeah. Yeah, that’s on you.”_

The tape clicked off as Scott looked at Dante, then at the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor. The state rests.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Let’s, uh, take a short recess before the defense presents their case.” He banged the gavel.

Scott turned to look at Bobbie, who was already hurrying out the door, followed by Carly. He briefly locked eyes with Sonny, who had remained seated. That didn’t surprise him. Corinthos had always been a selfish bastard.

“DA Baldwin?”

Scott frowned, then looked over to find the federal attorney that had been sitting at the other table. “Uh, yeah?”

“Let’s talk.”

**Hanley Courthouse B: Restroom**

Elizabeth stumbled into the ladies' room, then into one of the stalls where she vomited. She threw up until her throat was raw until her eyes were watering and throbbing—

And then she slumped against the wall, the door still partially open. She closed her eyes and just sat there, her hands dangling limply at her side.

She heard the door swing open, then Lois’s quiet, but a ragged voice. “Elizabeth? Are—are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said faintly, then looked up when Lois appeared in the stall doorway, her eyes red. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be—” Lois swallowed hard. “I thought I could do it. I read those words, I thought I could do it—but—” She clenched her hand into a fist and punched the stall, wincing. “He was so _excited_ on that fucking tape—like he was a goddamn frat boy—”

Elizabeth’s chest heaved, and she started to cry again. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to live with this anymore. Why couldn’t it ever be over—

“—don’t give a shit what _anyone_ —” Jason’s angry voice faded in, then out again as the door swung open, then closed. Elizabeth frowned as Bobbie appeared in the doorway, pale.

“Jason is going to get arrested in about five minutes,” she said dryly, her eyes red as well. “Come on. Let’s just go home. Scott can call us when the decision comes back—”

“N-no—” Elizabeth tried to stand up, then Lois and Bobbie both grasped her elbows, helping her to her feet. “No,” she said. She pressed her hands to her face, looked over at the mirror, and winced. “Oh, damn. Jason’s going to take me to the nearest hospital.”

“Maybe he should,” Lois said, a bit nervous. She brushed at Elizabeth’s dress. “You don’t look okay—”

“I—” Elizabeth shook her head, then walked over to wash out her mouth. Bobbie handed her some gum, “I’ll be fine. I just—you’re right,” she told Lois. “We shouldn’t have listened. If they let him go after that or if the U.S. Attorney still thinks he should take over the case—” She grimaced, then splashed some water on her face. She reached for a paper towel to blot at her makeup. Her eye makeup was smeared slightly, but she was able to clean it up. She could fix it later.

“Then we’ll just have to hope Buffalo can do better,” she said, turning back to the women. “Let’s go back out there before Jason does get arrested.”

She walked towards the entrance, and after a minute, Bobbie and Lois followed.

The hearing must have ended because there were a lot of people milling about in the hallway. Jason, Carly, and Ned were both just outside the bathroom, Jason glaring at a bailiff who was clearly stopping him from going inside. She could see Sonny sitting on a bench across the hall.

“I’m okay,” she told him as he came over to her, took her face in his hands. “Don’t kiss me,” she warned. “I threw up.”

Jason laughed, his voice slightly rusty as he wrapped her in his arms. She clung to him, thanking the universe for putting him in her life.

“You okay?” Ned murmured to Lois, touching the small of her back. “I’m sorry—”

“If they let him go, Ned,” Lois said under her breath, “if somehow—he gets out of this, I’m going to make him disappear. I know people.”

“We know the _same_ people,” Ned reminded her, then kissed her forehead. “But agreed. He’s not going to get away with this.”

Lois sighed when the bailiff called them in. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.” She squeezed Ned’s hand and then followed the rest of the crowd into the courtroom.

**Hanley Courthouse: Hallway**

Carly walked out of the courtroom for the second time that day, anxious. “Vinnie’s lawyer didn’t even put on a case,” she said to Jason as he walked Elizabeth over to a bench. Carly looked at her mother, then at Sonny. “That’s good, right?”

“I hope so.” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. She looked at Jason. “Hey, I want to go down to the gift shop. I need some toothpaste.”

“I’ll get it for you—” he started to offer, but Elizabeth shook her head.

“I need to walk, to move around.”

“We’ll wait up here in case the judge comes back,” Carly told them as Jason tugged Elizabeth back to her feet. She made eye contact with her mother.

“I’ll go with you. I want to get something to drink,” Bobbie said, following the pair.

“We could head home if you want,” Sonny said when they were gone. “Judge might not be back for a few hours.” He sat down on the bench, stretched his legs. “Might as well grab some dinner on the way back.”

Carly frowned at him. “I want to wait—”

“I mean, what’s the point? Elizabeth testified and got through it. She did good. But the rest of it is out of our hands—” Sonny shrugged. “What else can we do?”

“We can sit there and support—” Carly closed her eyes. “This is important to Jason, and it’s important to Elizabeth. Jason is my best friend, and I want to be here for him. You can go if you want. But I’m staying. I can get a ride back with Mama and Lucas—”

“Fine, fine.” Sonny put up his hands. “I’ll stay.”

Carly sat down, crossed her legs at the ankle, and stared straight ahead, blindly, barely seeing the other side of the hallway. Elizabeth’s testimony, like the press conference a few months ago, it had just proved to Carly once again that she wasn’t getting better. Not like Elizabeth was. She was recovering from two terrible things at once and could still stand up in front of the man who’d raped her and face him down—

Elizabeth was getting better, and Carly wasn’t. And the only difference between them was Carly had Sonny, not Jason.

And for a brief moment, Carly hated Elizabeth for having someone who loved her, who put her first. Who wanted to see her get better.

It was a brief flicker of that old resentment, and Carly forced it down. It wasn’t fair to blame Elizabeth for Sonny’s failures, for Carly’s blindness.

If Carly didn’t like the way her life was going, it was up to _her_ to change it.

**Hanley Courthouse: Court Room B**

Scott had hoped the decision wouldn’t take more than an hour, but he’d acknowledged they might not hear back that day or even the next. Sometimes these things took weeks, he’d warned them.

It took less than a half hour.

The bailiff called them back into the courtroom, and Elizabeth frowned—realizing that the U.S. Attorney that had been sitting at Vinnie’s defense table was no longer there.

Ned had noticed the same thing and leaned forward to talk to Scott. Scott smiled, turned back to Elizabeth, with a thumb sticking up in the air. He thought it was a good sign.

“All rise,” the bailiff said.

Elizabeth and Jason stood as the judge came back in and called the court to order. She held Jason’s hand and reached for Renee with the other, flashing the teenager a hopeful smile.

Then looked forward to wait for the judge’s decision.


	11. Chapter Sixty-One

_All you did was save my life_  
 _Pulled me out of that flat line_  
 _Put the heartbeat back inside_  
 _I'm not dying_  
 _All you did was get me through_  
 _I owe every breath to you_  
 _Heart and soul unparalyzed_  
 _All you did was save my life_  
\- All You Did Was Save My Life, Our Lady Peace

* * *

_Tuesday, December 9, 2003_

**Hanley: Court Room B**

The judge cleared his throat, peering at the court over a pair of half-moon glasses before glancing at his notes.

“The purpose of this hearing was to determine whether the Port Charles District Attorney’s Office would retain control of the State versus Vincent Esposito, a former detective with the Port Charles Police Department. Mr. Esposito was charged with seven rapes, attempted rape, attempted murder, and assault and battery on a public official.”

He glanced over at the empty space where the United States Attorney had been seated when the hearing began. “This petition was brought by Mr. Esposito and supported by the United States Attorney’s Office for Northern New York. While we were recessing after Officer Falconieri’s testimony, the NNY office withdrew their support.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught, and she traded a look with Jason. “That’s good, isn’t it?” she murmured under her breath.

“Mr. Esposito argued that his civil rights were violated when he was framed by a corrupt police department for a series of brutal rapes that left seven young women traumatized and a town demanding blood.” The judge cleared his throat. “The argument that the Port Charles Police Department was complicit in this conspiracy was supported by affidavits and evidence that several cases were mishandled and that officers frequently misused their power, putting people in harm’s way.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard. That sounded less like support.

“Due to the DNA evidence in the case, I was prepared to entertain a motion that Vincent Esposito would be better served if he were tried by the federal government as it is often difficult to obtain local convictions for police officers charged with crimes.”

The judge set his notes down, focused on the audience gathered. “I am satisfied that the District Attorney’s office has met the proof of burden required to bind this defendant over for trial, and moreover, that if this were to go to a jury trial, Mr. Esposito would likely be convicted due to his own confession.”

He paused. “I am denying the defendant’s motion to dismiss the charges. I find there has been no violation of his civil rights. Furthermore, I have no concerns that he will receive a fair trial in the jurisdiction of Port Charles. The defendant will therefore be transported back to the county jail in Port Charles, remanded for trial in that jurisdiction.” He banged the gavel, and across the aisle, Elizabeth heard a woman wailing—Vinnie’s family—maybe his mother or grandmother.

“We won,” Renee breathed. “Didn’t we?” She swiped at her tears, looked at Elizabeth. “We won.”

“We won,” Elizabeth repeated. She exhaled slowly, got to her feet, and turned to the teenager, hugging her tightly. “It’s almost over.”

As long as Vinnie didn’t back out of his plea agreement, this would be over. He just needed to be sentenced. Elizabeth looked over just in time to see a furious Vinnie being dragged out court. Then she smiled.

She might not be able to put Ric away, but she’d stood up to the first monster who had haunted her dreams.

Vinnie could never hurt her again.

**Hanley Courthouse: Steps**

Dante lingered at the bottom of the steps, watching with a faint smile as the judge’s decision spread through the lines of protesters. There were hugs, laughter, even tears—

“Feeling _proud_ of yourself?”

The words were hissed from somewhere behind him on the steps, nearly lost on the bitterly cold wind whipping around them. But Dante turned to find his grandmother standing there, her dark eyes lit with fury, with shame.

“I’m sorry, Grandma—”

“You don’t have the right to call me that! You’re no grandson of _mine_! Turning on your own like that—”

Dante swallowed, staring at her. “Didn’t—you heard the tape—”

“I heard you _push_ him into saying those things—” Marta Falconieri pointed a long, bony finger at him. “Bastardo—all you cops are the same! You were angry at my boy for not solving the cases—”

“No, that’s not—”

“Cazzato!” Marta snarled. “You were _always_ jealous of Vinnie, always tagging after him—you saw your chance to make yourself look better, and you took it, didn’t you?”

“I had to do the right thing, Grand—” She slapped him hard, his face snapping to the side. Dante took a deep breath as people around them gasped and started to point. “I had to,” he said quietly, more to himself now than her. “For Brooke, for the women he hurt—”

“You are _no_ better than your father!” Marta hissed, stepping closer. “You destroy _everything_ you touch, just like he did!”

Dante blinked and tried to absorb that. He’d never known his father. Never knew that anyone other than his mother knew who he was. “My _father_?” he repeated numbly. “I—”

“Did he put you up to this? That puta _,_ Gloria, said he was here now—did he pay you to take my boy down?”

“Did he—” Dante cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know my father. You know that—” His voice trembled slightly. This was the woman who had looked after him, who had baked him cookies, and given him his first condom—

And now she _hated_ him.

“You’re just like him. Just _like_ that Corinthos scum.”

Dante couldn’t hear anything else—just that one word—that single name. He blinked as his grandmother stalked away, stalked over to where his aunt Francesca was waiting for her.

And he saw a group of people walking down the stairs—the tall figure of Jason Morgan with Elizabeth Webber. Behind them, Carly Corinthos—

And Sonny. The dark-haired man that he knew had grown up in his neighborhood, who had known his mother, dated her once—

Oh, God. Was he—

Was Sonny Corinthos his father?

**Harborview Towers: Parking Garage**

The trip from Syracuse to Port Charles usually only took forty-five minutes, but Elizabeth still dozed on the way back, waking when Jason pulled the SUV in the parking garage. It had been a long day, and she’d been up since almost dawn. She looked around, twisting slightly. “Are Sonny and Carly still behind us?”

“No, we lost the limo somewhere on the highway, and Sonny said they might stop for something to eat,” Jason said. He switched off the engine, sat back in the seat, then looked over at her. “I can carry you if you need it—”

“I’m fine.” Elizabeth popped open the door, then stepped out, waiting for Jason to come around the side of the car. “I need to get up and move around. We probably should have stopped more than once,” she admitted, “but the way you speed—” She slid him an amused glance, lacing her fingers through his as they walked towards the elevators. “I figured we’d be home in twenty minutes.”

“Very funny,” he muttered as he slid his elevator key into the access slot, then waited for the doors to open. “Chinese for dinner?”

“Mmm….no, what about Thai? I feel like something spicy.” As they stepped onto the elevator, Elizabeth’s phone buzzed with a text notification. She pulled it out of her pocket, flipped it open, then smiled as she read it.

“What is it?”

“Scott. It just says Deal still on. Sentencing after Christmas. It’s over.” She closed her eyes, pressed the phone to her chest. “He’s not backing out.”

“He’d be stupid to,” Jason said. He pressed the button for the penthouse floor, then used the elevator key again—the second layer of security. “If Baldwin got that tape admitted once, he could do it again. The deal is his best chance at parole.”

“He’ll never make parole,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked at Jason, who frowned at her slightly. “Between the DNA results, the cases from Buffalo, that tape—” She stared at the lights over the elevator. “In twenty-five years, I’ll go to that hearing, and I’ll make sure they never let him out.”

Jason squeezed her hand. “That’s if he lasts that long.”

He unlocked the door to the penthouse, turning to her. “I’m not saying I’d do anything,” he continued, “but people accused of what he did, to women as young—” He lifted a shoulder.

“Scott said the same thing. I honestly don’t care what happens to him,” Elizabeth told him. “As long as he’s off the streets. It’s—it’s not the same. Not like Ric. I wish I could explain why.” She unbuttoned her jacket, handed it to him so he could hang it up. “He’s a nightmare that I thought I’d put away a long time ago, but this time it really _is_ over.”

She smiled up at him, sliding her hands up the lapels of his jacket, gripping them before leaning up on her toes to kiss him. Jason framed her face with his hands, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss.

“I’ll go get the menu,” she murmured a moment later, drawing back and wandering over to the drawer where they kept the takeout menus.

When Elizabeth turned back, menu in hand, she stopped short at the sight of Jason standing right in front of her—a velvet box in his hand.

She stared at it for a long moment, then raised her eyes to his. “Jason.”

“When we talked about it on Thanksgiving,” Jason said, “you said you wanted to wait for another moment. But I already knew when I wanted that moment to be. I’ve known for months.”

“You—” Elizabeth swallowed hard. “You did? When? I mean—” The menu floated out of her hands as she raised her hand to her chest. “When did you know?”

“Not long after you moved into the condo,” Jason told her, stepping closer, tipping his head down slightly to keep their eyes in contact. “We were sitting on the sofa, and you were watching one of those movies that I hate—”

“Oh, real nice—” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“And I just—I wanted to spend every night like that.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “But you didn’t ask,” she said, her voice small, unsure. “Why?”

“Because it was almost a month to the day after I was supposed to marry another woman,” Jason said with a wry smile. “And we were still—we were figuring things out. I didn’t know— I couldn’t be sure you wanted to have the conversation. Not just then. You’d barely filed for divorce.”

When he put it that way—

“And then things happened with Brooke, and the Baker letter—there just—there never seemed to be a good moment,” Jason continued. “When you got pregnant, I didn’t want you to think—it was _important_ that you didn’t think I was asking you because of the baby.”

She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. “Oh. I—” Elizabeth paused. “So you—you were waiting for today?”

“Actually,” Jason said as he turned the box around, open it—opened it so that whatever was inside was visible only to him. “I wanted to wait until you’d testified against Ric. Because that felt like it would be ending that part of our lives.”

“But that’s not going to happen anymore, so—” Elizabeth bit at the nail on her thumb. “So—”

“So, I wanted to ask today.” He turned the ring to face her, and Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t a traditional diamond, but a dark red ruby—nearly the same color as the glass he’d given her that Valentine’s Day—their first Valentine’s Day.

“It matches my dress,” she said, blankly, taking the box from him, staring at it. “I—I—” Elizabeth cleared her throat, looked at him. “You remembered.”

“I remember _every_ moment we’ve shared,” he told her, his voice low and gravelly. He swept her hair out of her eyes. “I told you the lights were different in Italy. I want to show you. We can’t—we can’t go now, but later—when the baby is older—maybe this summer. We’ll take him with us.”

“A family.” She took it out, then set the box behind her on the table. “You—” Elizabeth met his eyes, then managed a smile, her heart beating so fast she was sure he could hear it. “You haven’t actually asked me yet.”

“No, I guess I haven’t.” Jason took the ring from her. “Over the last six months,” he told her, taking her hand in his, their eyes locked on one another, “I’ve watched you fight so many battles, and I’ve been in awe of your strength, your courage, your beauty. Not just on the outside—though—” He tilted his head, that wicked spark she loved so much in those gorgeous eyes, “—we’ve agreed you look _amazing_ in red—”

She laughed, the sound more of a choking sob, as she pressed her free hand into a fist against her mouth. “That’s true—”

“But inside, where it counts. You risked so much for Carly, for Brooke, for so many people—for me. I want to share the rest of my life with you.” He paused, waited for her to look at him again. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth wiggled her fingers, her smile so broad on her face that her cheeks were stinging. “Yes!”

He slid the ring on her finger, then crushed her against him in a hug, burying his face in her hair—then swung her in a circle, lifting her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing. “I love you,” he murmured against her ear.

“I love you, too.” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and hoped her feet would never hit the ground.”

**Luke** **’s: Bar**

Lucky glanced over at his best friend as Dante nursed his second beer of the night. That usually wouldn’t worry him, but Dante had only sat down about thirty minutes earlier — Lucky hadn’t known Dante to drink that much that fast before.

Dante had driven back with his mother, so neither Lucky nor Cruz had had a chance to check in with him to see how he was handling things. Lucky had invited both of them to hang out at Luke’s while he picked up a shift tending the bar.

He traded a concerned look with Cruz and was about to start over to where Dante was sitting at the end of the bar when he saw a familiar brunette walk through the front door. Leaving Dante to his roommate, Lucky strode across the bar to greet his girlfriend.

“Hey!” Kelsey was grinning when he reached her. “Scott just called me with the great news—Vinnie is going with the plea deal—it’s over. He’ll be sentenced after Christmas.”

“I know—he sent me a text—” he kissed her hard. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go, that you couldn’t be there.”

“Someone had to protect Port Charles while the rest of you were gone.” Kelsey glanced over at the bar with Cruz was talking to Dante, who didn’t seem to be responding. “How did he do?”

“He did great, but I think his grandmother wasn’t expecting Vinnie to lose the motion.” Lucky sighed. “I don’t know if she found him after the hearing because Cruz and I left—”

“Scott said he didn’t have to say a lot on the stand, only introduce himself and his relationship to Vinnie, but—” Kelsey bit her lip. “He said the tape was hard to listen to. That Lois and Elizabeth left before it was over.”

“You heard it,” Lucky muttered. “You know that transcripts couldn’t really paint the picture—” He shook his head. “I talked to Jason after the hearing—he said Elizabeth was handling it, but I guess I’m still worried.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot right now,” Kelsey said. “But it’s over. That should bring her some comfort. Scott said she was a star. I hope she can put this behind her.”

“Me, too.” He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go check on Dante.”

* * *

Dante grimaced as Kelsey slid onto the stool on the other side of him. He should have gone home, he should have just started screaming in the middle of the street, then maybe he’d be locked up somewhere he could just be alone.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t make sense of what his grandmother had said, but he couldn’t reject it—couldn’t stop thinking it was true.

He even looked like Sonny—he could see that now—dark hair, dark eyes—their chins— He stared at himself in the mirror on the other side of the bar, taking in his features, cataloging them, looking for similarities.

Sonny fucking _Corinthos_ was his father. A gangster who was rumored to have killed his own mother back in the neighborhood. And his cousin? His cousin was a violent rapist who’d stalked and brutalized women.

He was screwed on _both_ sides of the gene pool.

“Gin and tonic,” Kelsey told Lucky, who went around the other side of the bar. “I’m celebrating,” she told Dante and Cruz. “I wrapped another case today. “ She smiled at Dante, and he realized she wasn’t going to ask.

She wasn’t going to press him, ask him how things were—if he’d talked to his family—not like Cruz or Lucky. They meant well, but Dante just didn’t want to fucking think about any of it. He wanted it not to be true, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and everyone kept asking him—

But Kelsey was just smiling at him. “It’s actually one of your cases,” she told him. “That robbery on Van Ness?”

“Oh?” Dante cleared his throat, his voice slightly rusty as if he hadn’t spoken in days rather than a few hours. “They plead down?”

“They did. Good work.” She looked Lucky with a wicked smirk. “It’d be nice if you and Cruz could make me look that good in court.”

“Hey, I’m not a miracle worker,” Cruz said with a snicker. Kelsey tossed a pretzel at him in mock protest, and blissfully—no one bothered Dante the rest of the night with any more questions about his day or his family.

**PCPD: Commissioner** **’s Office**

The last thing Mac had to pack that night was the cluster of photos that sat on his desk. A photograph of he and Robin at her graduation from medical school—Maxie and Georgie’s senior portraits—a photo of himself and his brother—

He stared at the last photo for a long moment. He was glad Robert wasn’t here—that he hadn’t lived to see how right he’d been about Mac. The kind of person he’d turned out to be.

“Hey.”

He looked up, blinked in surprise when he saw Maxie in the doorway. “Maxie. It’s late—”

“Mom said you’d probably still be here.” Maxie walked into the office, looking around at the empty shelves. “Crazy. You’ve been here as long as I can remember.”

“Yeah, well, all things come to an end.” He picked up the frames and set them in the cardboard box on his desk. “What brings you by?”

“I hate being like this with you,” she told him. “I know you’re not my dad, not really—but you never gave up on me.” Maxie met his eyes, hers damp with tears. “And I just—I just didn’t know how to handle it. You know? I mean—it was so bad. What happened. Your part in it.”

“I’m sorry, Maxie. I was trying to protect you, your sister—our life—but I made a terrible mistake—”

“I know.” She walked around the desk and hugged him tightly. “But it’s okay. That’s what you always told me, wasn’t it? You make a mistake, you apologize, and you do better next time.”

“Yeah.” Mac kissed the top of her head. “I should take my own advice, huh?”

“Yeah. Come over to our house, Mac. Mom is holding dinner for you.”

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

Carly wished her mother had driven with them to Syracuse, but Bobbie had, of course, cine with Scott, Lucas, and his boyfriend, leaving Carly alone in the limo with her husband. Max drove a lot slower than Jason, and Sonny’s insistence on stopping for dinner had put them nearly two hours behind Jason and Elizabeth returning.

She glanced at Sonny as he tossed his keys and wallet on the desk. “Elizabeth did really good today,” Carly said as she removed her jacket, laid it over the sofa. “It was…it was hard listening to her testimony.”

“Yeah. I, uh, it’s tough to think about that happening across the hall,” Sonny said. He poured himself a bourbon. Sipped it. “But that’s what happens when you cooperate with the PCPD.”

Carly narrowed her eyes. “Cooperating with the PCPD did _not_ get Elizabeth attacked in her own home, Sonny—”

“Actually, it did. Twice.” Sonny held up two fingers as if she were an infant who didn’t know how to count. “Courtney called the PCPD, didn’t she? They got involved in your case, and Capelli leaked the story that had Ric throwing Elizabeth around the damn living room—”

“You heard Elizabeth—that was _Capelli_. Not the rest of the department—”

“Oh, you are _not_ going to defend the cops to me, are you?” Sonny demanded. “Do you know who the hell you married?”

“Yeah, Sonny, I’m mildly familiar.” She crossed her arms. “But that doesn’t mean I have to agree with you all the time. Capelli is an idiot. And so are some of the others. But don’t stand there and tell me they didn’t try to find me. You know they did. No one knew about the panic room—”

“I don’t want to have this argument with you,” Sonny bit out. “I didn’t like it when my own sister fed me to the wolves, I don’t appreciate you doing it, too. Thanks to you and Elizabeth, Ric Lansing is out there, running wild, planning his next attack, so spare me the valor and courage of the fucking Port Charles Police Department.”

Carly scowled, then lifted her chin. “You know what, Sonny? I’m done with this. I am _done_ pretending that I don’t matter—”

“When have you ever—”

“I have tried to give and give and give, but _all_ you do is take.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Have you even bothered to get that list of nannies you promised me? Where’s my new guard?”

Sonny stared at her for a long moment, then finished the bourbon. He set the empty tumbler on the minibar. “You promised you’d stay here until Ric was found.”

“I promised I’d move back in the penthouse. I didn’t promise never to _leave_ —damn it, Sonny, what if we never find him?” she demanded. “Your so-called tip didn’t pan out, did it? No. He’s _nowhere_ , and I am done putting my life on hold. I’m hiring another nanny myself and going back to work every day—”

“No, you’re not. Ric is out there—” Sonny broke off, his scowl deepening as Carly changed past him, up the stairs. “Carly! Carly, come back right now!”

Carly shoved into the master bedroom and dragged out her suitcase. “I’m so _tired_ of having this argument, of pretending that what _you_ need is more important.” She grabbed a stack of hangers out of the closet, not caring what she grabbed or that it was a collection of skirts and dresses.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m _leaving_ ,” Carly spat at him. “I’m going to get my kids from Laura Spencer’s house—so much for worrying about their safety. You didn’t ask where the hell they were while we were in Syracuse—you don’t care about them unless it’s to control _me_ —” She tried to zip the suitcase shut, but it got stuck on a hanger. She started to yank at it. . “I’m getting the kids and going to my mother’s. I’m done—”

“The hell you are—”

Sonny grabbed the suitcase, hurling it across the room. Carly’s clothes tumbled out, falling over the ground. “You’re not leaving!” he growled, whirling on her, his eyes wild—his hair falling in his face. “You’re staying right here where I can keep you safe—”

“You can’t _stop_ me!” Carly cried. She started past him but gasped in pain as he grabbed her elbow, swung her back. She tripped over the sleeve of a sweater, and hit the ground. She tried to get to her feet, tried to get to the door before he could—

But Sonny had stormed out into the hallway—the door slammed—

And then she heard it—a light _snick_ as the door lock latched. Stunned, Carly reached for the knob, twisted it.

It wouldn’t move.

Carly tugged at it, pulled—but nothing. “Let me out! Sonny!”

“Not until you come to your senses,” he shouted through the door. Then she couldn’t hear anything. She kept screaming, kept crying for him to let her out, to unlock the door—

He was gone. She was alone.

Carly turned, her hands trembling as she dug her hands through hair, looking wildly around her room. The master bedroom was in the interior of the building—no windows.

No windows.

It was a room with no windows. And she was locked inside.

She ran at the door, beat on it with both fists. “Sonny! Let me out! Sonny!”

Nothing.

“Jason! Max! _Somebody_ let me out!”

Nothing.

“Somebody—”

Carly fell to her knees, screaming Sonny’s name, screaming for Jason, for Max, for anyone—

No one came.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

No sooner had their dinner arrived than Jason got a call from the lobby downstairs, letting them know that Bernie and Justus were waiting—and it was an emergency.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, getting to his feet, wincing. Jason had wanted to spend the night with Elizabeth, being happy for five minutes without something terrible happening.

No such luck.

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I’ll eat until they get here, then go upstairs.” She smiled when his pinched expression didn’t change. “Jason. You know Justus and Bernie would never just show up unless it was important.” She gestured at his container. “Can I have your wontons?”

Jason went over to answer the door, frowning slightly as he heard some shouting from next door when he pulled the door open. Elizabeth couldn’t make out the words—but she could definitely hear someone shouting—

“What are Sonny and Carly fighting about _now_?” Justus asked as he and Bernie walked past Jason into the penthouse. “Hey, Elizabeth. Congratulations on the case. Ned said you did a great job.”

Picking up her food—and Jason’s wontons—Elizabeth got to her feet. “I guess. Whatever it was, the judge ruled for Scott, so it’s almost over. Finally. I’ll just go upstairs—”

“Actually—” Justus put up a hand to stop her, turning to Jason. “It’s about Ric, so maybe—”

“Oh.” Elizabeth looked at Jason, uncomfortable, not wanting to assume anything—

“Yeah, yeah. Stay. Sit—” He started towards the sofa, intending to help her sit back down, but Elizabeth had it covered and was already starting on the wontons. He turned to Bernie and Justus. “What’s up?”

“Another sighting in Caracas. We sent our team.” Justus lifted his brows to Jason. “I notified all interested parties—”

Jason nodded — that explained why Justus had been on the phone with the mayor at all today. “Okay.”

“Normally, this would keep until tomorrow, but we wanted to see if maybe—” Bernie hesitated. “Maybe we should keep it between us until we know more—”

Cody knocked, then pushed open the door as Sonny stalked in, barely waiting for the guard to step out of the way. “Jason, you have to get Carly—” He frowned, looking at them. “Bernie? Justus—what’s going—”

Elizabeth got to her feet. “What’s wrong with Carly—”

And then they heard it. Not shouting. But screams. Horrific screams—

Max was in the doorway, his face pale. “Mr. C—I think Mrs. C’s hurt—”

“She’s _fine_ ,” Sonny said flatly. “She just needs to realize I’m right—”

“Why is she screaming like that—” Elizabeth started walking across the living room. Something terrible lurked in the corner of her mind, but he wouldn’t—surely, Sonny would never— “Sonny, where is she—”

Then the screams cut off abruptly, leaving the room in an eerie silence. “I’m going to check on her,” Elizabeth told Jason. “You guys stay and talk—”

As soon as she passed Sonny—he grabbed her arm, shoved her back. Startled, Elizabeth fell against Bernie, her eyes wide as Jason muttered a curse, stepping in front of her. “What the _hell_ —”

Bernie put his hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders to steady her.

“You leave my wife alone!” Sonny snapped, shaking a finger at Elizabeth, who stared him in confusion. “Stay out of this!”

There was another scream—but this was more like a long wail—and it was all Elizabeth was going to listen to. She shoved past Sonny, stomping on his foot when he again tried to stop her—and charged into the hallway, Jason on her heels.


	12. Chapter Sixty-Two

_My feel for you, boy, is decaying in front of me_  
 _Like the carrion of a murdered prey_  
 _And all I want is to save you, honey_  
 _Or the strength to walk away_  
\- Carrion, Fiona Apple

* * *

_Tuesday, December 9, 2003_

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

Despite Elizabeth’s shorter legs, Jason still found himself two or three strides behind her as she threw open the penthouse door—Carly had started screaming again, and he could make out the words—

She was screaming his name, screaming for Sonny—

Screaming for _someone_ to let her out.

Jason couldn’t think, couldn’t put words to what he knew Sonny must have done—he’d seen red the moment Sonny had put his hands on Elizabeth—shoving her back—he’d nearly gone after his best friend and partner—

And then that scream—that sound of pure terror—he remembered it—he’d heard it on the phone the day Carly had been rescued. As the panic room had opened, as he drove back towards the house—he could hear her screaming at Elizabeth to push the button, watching as they searched on the monitors—her voice pouring out of the soundproof room as the door had slid open, revealing the nightmare hidden within.

He finally caught up to Elizabeth in the hallway outside of the bedroom, twisting the knob—she turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s locked—she stopped screaming, I can’t—”

Jason swore, gently pushed her aside, intending bust into the bedroom himself when he heard footsteps thundering up—Justus and Bernie—and Sonny, followed by Max and Cody.

“You can’t let her out—” Sonny grabbed Jason’s arm, pushed him into the wall. “She’s not safe. She’ll leave!”

Elizabeth tried to call to Carly, tried to tell her they were there—but the room was silent. The screams had stopped.

There was nothing.

“Jason—” She looked at him. “We have—”

“Sonny—” Jason pushed his partner back, took him by the shoulders, then shook him. “Where’s the key?”

“You can’t—”

“Damn it—” He looked at Max and Cody. “Hold him back.” Then he shoved Sonny at them—Max grabbed him, and Cody put himself between Sonny and the bedroom. Jason went back to the bedroom door, then with all of his strength—crashed through it, the door splintering in pieces. Jason pushed them aside, shoving his way into the room.

He looked around the room, trying to find Carly—trying to see past the wreckage of the room. Clothes, hangers, and shoes were everywhere—

“There—”

Elizabeth darted under his arm and found Carly in the corner, between the nightstand and the wall, her head tucked her into her knees, curled into a ball. “Carly, we’re here—”

She knelt down in front of Carly, but Carly just lifted her head, stared at her. Her eyes were blank. Unseeing. “You have to go,” Carly hissed. “He’ll come back. He’ll come back. He’s hurting you.” She reached out, grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, digging her nails into the skin. “Don’t drink the water! Stop drinking it!”

Jason swore, then turned around to head off Sonny, who had broken away from Max and Cody. Justus and Bernie remained in the hallway, stunned—

Rumors of Sonny’s instability had circulated for years, but—

Sonny’s fury had evaporated somehow—with the door busted open, it seemed as if he’d lost all will to fight. “She’s not safe,” he said dully, staring at his wife. It wasn’t needed, but Cody stepped in front of him, stopping him from going near Elizabeth or Carly again.

“Jason, we need to get her out of here,” Elizabeth told him as he knelt down, trying to peel Carly’s hands from Elizabeth’s arm. “Keep Sonny back.” She looked at Carly. “I won’t drink the water, Carly. Thank you. You’re right. You saved my life. Thank you,” she said again, rubbing Carly’s arm. “Let’s go—let’s go home. Okay? Come with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

Carly blinked then, and the terrible blankness seemed to dissipate. She looked around, saw the door— “Couldn’t get out. Couldn’t leave.” She looked at Jason. “No windows.”

Gently, Jason put his hands beneath Carly’s elbows and lifted her to her feet. The blonde gently swayed but stayed upright.

“She can’t…” Sonny swallowed hard. Blinked rapidly, looked around the room, looked at the door. Looked at the corner of the room—the other corner, opposite of Carly. “Not safe.”

“Can you walk?” Elizabeth asked Carly, looping one of Carly’s arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve got her,” Jason started, but Elizabeth shook her head.

“No. Make sure he doesn’t follow us. Justus—” she looked at the lawyer. “Justus, can you call Bobbie? Ask her to come over. Don’t upset her, but make it clear she has to come. Call Laura, tell her she needs to keep the boys a little longer.”

“Yeah.” Justus cleared his throat, stepping aside as Carly and Elizabeth made their way into the hallway. Carly seemed lucid now but moved as if she were sleepwalking.

“Cody,” Jason said, his eyes on a confused Sonny. “Go with them. Make sure they get down the stairs.”

“Got it.” Cody glanced at Sonny another moment, then followed.

“Couldn’t leave,” Carly said as Elizabeth put one of the blonde’s hands on the railing. She curled her fingers around it, clung to it. Then she looked at Elizabeth, her eyes feverish and over-bright. “You didn’t drink the water?”

“Not today,” Elizabeth told her.

“Okay. Okay. You should—you should leave him,” Carly said. She stopped on a step, just before the landing, closing her eyes. Swayed slightly.

“You’re right. I should have listened to you.” Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, realizing Justus, Bernie and Cody were all following a few steps behind, Justus quietly on the phone.

After what seemed like hours, they finally made it across the hallway into the other penthouse. She helped Carly sit down, then all but collapsed next to her. Elizabeth’s legs were shaking from exertion, and her own lungs were starting to burn. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t given any consideration to her own health—

Those screams—the sound of it had dragged her back to that terrible day—Carly’s cries had been the last thing Elizabeth fully remembered before passing out.

“We need—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, fisted her hands in her laps. “We need something to drink.” She paused. “Not water.” Carly might lose it again if she saw Elizabeth drinking water.

“Elizabeth,” Justus said, closing the door behind them, leaving Cody on the door in the hallway. “You don’t look good. Let me go over, deal with Sonny—”

“N-No, I just need—” She gestured at the dark bag by the desk. “My oxygen tank.”

“I’ll go to the kitchen—” Bernie volunteered, and Justus rushed over to get the oxygen.

“I’m…” Carly looked around, looked at the windows, then looked at her hands. “I’m okay.” She looked at Elizabeth, her eyes flaring as Justus handed her the bag, and Elizabeth fumbled. She brushed aside the tube and grabbed the oxygen mask. It was faster. . “You—you said he didn’t hurt you.”

“Not today,” Elizabeth managed. Justus brushed her shaking fingers aside, fitting the mask over her face. She switched the tank on just before the crisis hit. Within a minute or two, her lungs could expand again.

“Not today.” Carly closed her eyes. “It’s not today. It was before.” Her hands were shaking as she pressed them to her face. “Oh, God. It’s not today. I’m okay. I’m okay. My baby—I couldn’t find my baby—I thought he stole my baby—”

Tears streaked down her face as Carly lurched off the sofa, wild eyes looking at Justus. “Where’s my baby? _Does_ he have him?—”

“Carly—” Justus crossed the room, took her by the arms to keep her still. “Look at me. It’s December. Morgan is great. He was borne healthy, and Laura Spencer is babysitting him.” He locked eyes with her. “Look at me. Just breathe. It’s December. You—you were rescued. Ric isn’t here to hurt you.”

“Not here.” Carly took a deep breath, closed her eyes again, then opened them. “It’s—we were at the hearing.” She looked at Elizabeth. “We came home.” She pressed her hands to her face. “I wanted to leave. I was angry. And—Sonny—Oh, God. He locked me in. He trapped me in that room. No windows,” she repeated. “No way out.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Bernie asked Elizabeth softly. He handed her a glass of iced tea. “What’s—are you all right? I should get Jason—”

“I know better than to push myself like that,” Elizabeth told him. “I’m fine. Sometimes I have trouble breathing, and if I don’t pay attention, I can start to hyperventilate. Oxygen helps.” She looked at Carly, who seemed calmer. “As for Carly—” Another tear slid down her cheek. “It’s Acute Stress Disorder. She’s having a dissociative episode.”

**Corinthos Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Jason didn’t know what to say to Sonny—how to even process what had just happened. He’d seen Sonny hit rock bottom before—at least he’d thought he’d seen the bottom before—

But this—the last twenty minutes—

He looked at Sonny, who had sat at the end of the bed, his eyes unseeing, his face facing the wall. “I won’t ask what you were thinking. I doubt you could tell me.”

“I just—” Sonny stared at his hands. “I needed her to be safe.” His voice was hoarse, roughened. He looked at Jason, the whites of his eyes crisscrossed with red. “She was going to leave. She’s not safe out there.”

“Ric is long gone, Sonny. In South America—”

“Not just Ric. You—you saw what happened to Elizabeth, to all the other girls—it’s not safe.” Sonny shook his head. “She wasn’t here last week. And I—I couldn’t find her. Couldn’t find the boys.” He lunged off the bed, heading for the door. “Where are they? Where the boys?”

Jason swallowed hard, held up his hands to keep Sonny from charging past him. He shoved his partner back. “They’re with Laura Spencer. She’s babysitting them, remember?”

“Where’s—” Sonny took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “Carly’s with Elizabeth. She’s still in the building.” He looked at his hands. “Elizabeth,” he repeated. “I—” He frowned at Jason, his dark eyes bewildered. “Did I hurt her?”

“I—” Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah. You pushed her. She was coming to get Carly. You wanted to stop her. Sonny, you locked Carly in a room with no windows. Do you know what you did?”

“I had to stop her from leaving—” Sonny scrubbed his hands over his face. “I locked her in. I trapped her.”

“You know she’s—that she has Acute Stress Disorder. That what you did brought it back—you just put her through the same—” Jason bit off his angry words, swallowed the bitterness. It wouldn’t make a difference, and he didn’t want to be here, cleaning up after him. “You need to sleep, Sonny.”

“What?” Sonny blinked at him. “Sleep—”

Jason turned, hearing Max’s footsteps. The guard held a black kit in his hand—the same kit Bobbie had used that summer. He took it from him, then looked back at Sonny. “You always feel better after some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Sonny repeated. He nodded. “Right. I’ll sleep, and then I can—” He turned, gestured at the room. “I can make everything better tomorrow.”

While Sonny’s back was turned, Jason quietly filled the syringe with the sedative, then handed the kit back to Max.

When Sonny looked at Jason again, his arm waving in the air—Jason grabbed the arm and quickly plunged the needle—

“What—” Sonny scowled, but Jason was already done before he could process it or struggle. He staggered back, looking at Jason. “What did you do—”

Then his words slurred, and he started to sway. Before he collapsed on the ground, Jason and Max maneuvered him to the bed, where he fell flat on his face.

“Go over with Mrs. C and Miss Webber,” Max said. He met Jason’s eyes. “I got this. It’s not the first time.”

“No, I know,” Jason muttered. He dragged a hand over his face. “Do me a favor, though. Put some things together for Carly. Just—I don’t know—” He looked around the room. “Something,” he said after a minute. “She’s not coming back.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

By the time Jason returned home, Bernie had left, wanting to give them some space. Bobbie must have sped over—because she was sitting on the sofa with Carly, who was pale but looked more alert.

“Jason.” Bobbie got to her feet, rushed over to hug him tightly. He could feel the older woman trembling—whether from anger or fear, he couldn’t tell. “Elizabeth went upstairs to change. Don’t get worried—but she needed the mask again,” she told him as she drew back.

Jason scowled as Bobbie returned to Carly, looked at Justus. “What happened?”

“She said she just moved too fast,” Justus told him, coming over to the desk. “She got something to drink, we got the tank—and she’s okay. I walked her upstairs just to be sure.” He looked at Jason. “What the _hell_ are we going to do?”

“He was sedated for the night. I didn’t—” Jason hesitated. “It’s what we always do when he’s like this,” he admitted. “What we did last July. I can’t—we’ll deal with the rest of it tomorrow.”

Justus looked like he might argue but then nodded with a scowl. “Okay. Okay. I’ll go. We’ll—” He looked back at Carly, pale and worn out, tears staining her cheeks—her hands still shaking. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind him as Jason walked over to Carly and Bobbie, sat in the armchair—frowning at the sight of the oxygen mask on the table. She’d needed it three times today—that wasn’t great, but it had been a demanding day, and he wasn’t going to worry about it right now.

He looked at Carly. “I—” Words failed him, and Jason shook his head.

“I’m okay,” Carly told him, her voice broken, hoarse from the screaming. “Mama’s here. And you—” Fresh tears lingered in her lashes. “You got me out again—you and Elizabeth. I don’t—it’s all—it’s all kind of a blur—I thought I was in the panic room. I thought Ric had Morgan—” She closed her eyes. “I thought it was happening again.”

“That’s the disorder,” Bobbie murmured to her. “You relived the trauma because…because you were forced to.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Kevin said that might happen—um, I want to go. Can we—” Carly clenched her mother’s hands. “Please. I want to go. I want my boys—”

“Lucas went to get them from Laura,” Bobbie promised her. “They might even be at the Brownstone already.” She got to her feet, helping Carly stand. “We’ll get your things later.”

“I’ll walk down with you—” Jason said, also rising, but Carly shook her head.

“No, no—that’s—” She looked at him, reached out with her hand to squeeze his. “I’m okay. Elizabeth—I saw the mask. I think she used it.” She frowned at Bobbie. “Didn’t she?”

“She did,” Bobbie told her gently. “Jason, you should go check on her. You’ll feel better.” Her eyes hardened. “And we’ll deal with everything tomorrow."

“Yeah.” Jason swallowed, then followed them to the door. He opened it. “Cody, walk Carly and her mother downstairs. Make sure they get home, okay? You’re done for the night.”

“Are you sure?” Cody asked hesitantly. “You and Miss Webber don’t need anything?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.” Then Jason closed the door, grabbed the portable tank, then went upstairs.

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Elizabeth was standing by the window when Jason came upstairs, dressed in one of his old t-shirts and a pair of loose cotton pants. Her hair had been pulled back off her face into a messy knot on the top of her head, and she’d cleaned her face, removing her make up.

She turned when he pushed open the door and flicked on a lamp on his dresser. “Hey. Carly and Bobbie leave?”

“Yeah.” He crossed the room; she met him halfway and let him take her into his arms. “Justus said you needed the oxygen?”

“I’m okay,” Elizabeth promised, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I wasn’t thinking. I just—I heard her scream—”

“I know.” Jason slid his fingers through her hair. “Carly seemed okay when I got back—I mean, she knew where she was.”

“It took her a bit, but by the time Bobbie came, she was better.” Elizabeth drew back, then pulled Jason’s hand over to sit on the edge of the bed. “What about Sonny?”

“Sedated him,” Jason said shortly. “No point in arguing with him when he’s like this. It’s—it was almost like last summer. When he was hallucinating Lily and thought she was blaming him for Carly, for everything that happened—he slept and was okay the next day—”

“He’s _not_ okay,” Elizabeth said shortly. She folded her arms, looked at him with worry. “I—I know you told me about it when it happened, but this was different, Jason. He only hurt himself the last time.”

“I know—” He took her arm in his hand, wincing as he brushed his hands over the scratches left by Carly’s nails, but there was no evidence of Sonny’s shove. “He remembered pushing you. He was sorry.”

“I’m sure he was. But it’s _escalating_ , Jason. He locked Carly in their bedroom—”

“I know that—” Jason stopped, then looked away with a shake of his head. “I know,” he repeated, more quietly. “But I don’t know what else to do. What to say to Carly. What to say to him.” He looked at her, and she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“I just—I hate that Carly had to go back to that—that she was locked in a room again, and we couldn’t get her out. We couldn’t stop it from happening. Again.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Last year, I blamed myself. For getting pregnant. For marrying Ric. For making him think—I know it’s not my fault—what he did, I mean. What he wanted to do. But I still think I could have done something to stop it. And this time—we _knew_ she was feeling that way, Jason. And we just let it happen.”

“I—” Jason grimaced, looked away. “ This isn’t on you. You wanted to do more. _I_ didn’t do enough. I didn’t—after he fired Leticia, after he broke his promise about getting her a driver—I should have stepped in with Sonny. More than I did.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

“And I should have told Bobbie what happened last week because I know Carly didn’t,” Elizabeth said. She touched his hand, drew it into her lap, and waited until he looked at her. “I’m sorry. They’re your family. Your best friends. I wish we could fix this.”

“Thank God you were there tonight.” Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her to him a rough hug, then kissed her. “I don’t know if I—I didn’t know how to help her. I couldn’t—”

“You would have managed it,” she said softly. “But we got her out. And she’s—she’ll be okay.”

“Was—” Jason hesitated. He didn’t continue until she met his eyes. “Was that—was it like that for you?”

“For me?” Elizabeth furrowed her brow, shook her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You—last year. You said—” Jason gestured with his hand. “You had this after the crypt.” His mouth tightened. “The night you left—you said you had an episode. Was it like tonight?”

“I—you mean, did I lose track of time and place?” Elizabeth asked slowly. “Not—not the way Carly did. She—her trigger—her trauma, it’s different.”

“The dark. Small spaces?” Jason pressed. “Being trapped? That’s not so different.”

“No, I guess not. Um…” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s—I haven’t had a panic attack in—”

“In a few hours,” Jason said softly.

Irritated at that reminder, she stood up and walked back to the window. “It’s not the same,” she muttered. “It’s medical now. Okay? I have panic attacks because I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe because of what Ric did.”

“Elizabeth—”

“The last time I had anything like what happened tonight to Carly was in July.” She turned to look at him. “The night we talked about Tom Baker. So, yeah, I guess—it was like that for me. I don’t really know. No one saw me during the attacks. No one except—” She bit her lip, dipped her head. “Is that why you’re asking? Because I told you I was having a panic attack the night of the blackout?”

“Maybe,” Jason said. He stood, but stayed behind at the bed. “I was looking at Carly tonight, and I didn’t—I didn’t think about last summer with the letter. I was thinking if you were like that when it happened to you a year ago—”

“Then why would Zander think I wanted to sleep with him?” Elizabeth finished his thought when he broke off. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jason. I don’t think he knew what I was going through. I never told him. I—” She sighed, picked at the carpet with her toe. “What good does it do to talk about it now? You didn’t want to then.”

“I—”

Elizabeth met his eyes again. “The truth is that I don’t remember. I remember the lights going out, trying to leave, hearing footsteps, and being scared. Zander must have found me then, but I didn’t know it was him. I thought it was you. You were supposed to come back. I think he kissed me, but it’s not all that clear. ”

Jason exhaled slowly. “I did come back,” he said quietly. But it had been too late. And he’d walked away—he should have done something—said something—

“Yeah, well…” Elizabeth looked back towards the window. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “I got trapped in the elevator a few weeks later, and I didn’t really remember that either. I barely remember that night in the penthouse. So…I don’t know. Maybe I knew it was him, maybe I thought it was you. I can’t tell you.” She exhaled slowly. “I just know it’s over. I’d really like it to be over.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then held her hand up, looking at the ring he’d put on her finger. “I made a mistake that night. Whether I knew it in the moment it was Zander I was kissing, or when I let you walk out the door without telling you I was mad at you for leaving to take care of Sonny and Carly—I should have just been more honest. It’s _over_. You said you wanted to wait until I testified to ask me to marry you. Because you wanted to close the door on that part of our life. To turn the page.”

“I do.”

“That’s what I want to do. What happened last year, Jason, it just doesn’t matter to me anymore. Does it matter to you?” She searched his eyes. “Because I think we both know we made mistakes. But we’re together now. I trust you. With my heart, my body—with everything.”

She touched his cheek. “Today, I closed the door on my rape. And now I want us to do the same for last year. I don’t want to think about it again. Not Ric, not Zander—or God, even Courtney. There’s just now. And what happens next. Can—can that be enough?”

“Yeah.” Jason brushed a piece of her hair behind her ears. “I'm sorry. It was just hard to see Carly like that. I couldn’t help her. And I couldn’t help you this summer, either. I can’t stand knowing you were in pain, and I couldn’t make it stop.”

“You did make it stop.” Elizabeth took her hands in his, squeezed. “But more importantly, _I_ made it stop. I don’t need you to fix me, Jason. And that’s not what Carly needs. I just need you to love me.”

“I do. I do love you.” He leaned down, kissed her, then rested her forehead against his. “You’re right. It’s over. It can’t be changed, and we’re here now. Tomorrow—we’ll figure out what’s next.”

_Wednesday, December 10, 2003_

**Brownstone: Bedroom**

When Carly woke up the next morning, she laid in her bed for a long time, staring out the window at the dull gray light filtering in through her curtains.

She couldn’t really remember most of the previous night—she knew they’d come back from Syracuse, they’d argued—

And then it was patchy. She’d been screaming, clawing at a door—then she’d been at Jason and Elizabeth’s—

And now she was here.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Carly rolled over to see her mother gingerly opening the door a crack. “Carly, I just wanted to let you know there’s coffee if you need it.”

Carly slowly sat up, scooting back to rest against the headboard. She looked at Bobbie, felt nothing. Felt…empty inside.

“Carly?” Bobbie said again. She walked into the room, perched at the edge of the bed. “Michael’s left for school. Lucas and Felix dropped him off on their way to the PCU campus.”

“Oh.” Carly cleared her throat, smoothed her hands over the comforter crumbled in her lap. She frowned at them. The nails were broken—bitten down to the quick. “Um. Thank you. How—weren’t they—” She met Bobbie’s eyes, frowned slightly. “They weren’t at the penthouse last night.”

“No. Laura was with them while we went to the hearing. Remember? Lulu suggested it because she and her friends wanted to protest outside. Lucas picked them up, brought them here last night.”

“Oh. Um, thank you. I mean…I should tell him thank you.” Carly told herself to get out of bed, to get moving, but she couldn’t quite manage it.

“Should I call Kevin?” Bobbie asked.

“No—” Carly hesitated. “No,” she said more firmly. “I think—I think I just—I need to think. Um, I don’t—it’s—” She focused on her mother. “Sonny—he—he locked me in the penthouse. I mean, in the bedroom. Didn’t he? It’s—I can’t—it’s all jumbled up in my head,” she admitted. “I thought I was in the panic room. Elizabeth was there—she—I thought Ric had locked her in with me—no, I thought she had water in her hand.”

“She and Jason heard you screaming from their place,” Bobbie told her. “They came over to get you. Jason broke down the door and held Sonny back while Elizabeth helped you over to their place to wait for me. That’s why you remember her.”

“Oh. I should—I should thank them. Um, she’s—” Carly closed her eyes. “She’s okay? I feel like she’s not. I don’t know—I don’t know if it’s because I remember what happened back in July, and it feels like now, or if it’s because of yesterday—”

“She’s all right. She had some trouble breathing, but that’s just because of the adrenaline. It sometimes happens when she pushes herself too hard. But she’s just fine, Carly.” Bobbie took Carly’s hand in hers. “You’re okay, too. You got out. And you don’t have to go back.”

“I thought—” Her stomach rolled as Carly tried to force herself to continue speaking. “I thought I didn’t have to go back before. I can’t—” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can make it go away again.”

“I’ll call Kevin—”

“No—” Carly shook her head. “No, don’t. No. There’s—I know what happened. And I remember how to make it better. I can—I’m okay, Mama. The boys? They’re okay?”

She shoved back the covers, got to her feet. “Michael—he’s in school?”

“Yes. And I fed Morgan with the milk you left for Laura. He’s napping.” Bobbie took Carly by the shoulders. “It’s _you_ I’m worried about.”

“I’m—I’m okay.” Carly sank back onto the bed. “But what you really want to know is what I’m going to do. Am I going back?”

“Yes.” Bobbie lifted her chin. “I knew if Sonny didn’t get help months ago, that his issues were just going to come back. Jason’s been covering them for years—he’s still doing it. Look what Sonny did to you last night. Who’s next, Carly?”

“I—” Carly’s mouth was dry as she tried to answer that question, tried to process things. “I never thought he’d hurt me,” she murmured. “He thought he was keeping me safe. He couldn’t see what he was doing was wrong. He never would put his hands on anyone—not a woman, I mean. He’s—you’re right.” She rubbed her cheek, exhausted. “He needs help. And I can’t fix it. I can’t make it go away anymore. And neither can Jason. Something has to change. And I can’t go back until it does.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

“I’m going to have lunch with Emily today,” Elizabeth called over her shoulder as Jason took their breakfast dishes into the kitchen. After the turmoil of the night before, she was determined to strike a lighter note. “Can I tell her we’re getting married, or do you want to do that together?”

Jason returned, another cup of coffee in his hands, frowning slightly. “No, you can tell her.” He sat back down, kissed her forehead. “Are you going to the mansion?”

“Yeah, Emily said Lila wanted to catch-up about yesterday, and I want to check on Lois. Lila invited her, too. So I’ll get it over with now.” Elizabeth twisted her ring on her finger, smiling at him. “You know what they’re going to ask? Lila and Emily? And Edward?”

“Uh—well, having met the Quartermaines, they’re probably going to ask when.” Jason sipped his coffee, leaned back as she grinned at him. “Or is that you asking me, and pretending you’re doing it for them?”

“It can be both,” she said, with a careless shrug. “My divorce is final at the end of January.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to get married in February. I just—” She looked at him. “And if we wait until March, I’ll be as big as a house.”

“I don’t care about that—”

“I do,” Elizabeth muttered. “I’m going to have to look at those pictures for the rest of my life.” She went over to his desk and looked at the calendar that sat there. She flipped through the pages. “We…I guess we could wait until after the baby is born. Maybe May?” She wrinkled her nose. “No. Because May is when I married Ric, and I don’t want that either. And you were supposed to marry Courtney in June—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason raised his brows. “Let me guess. July is out, too?”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“No. I’m not. I just—” He hesitated. “It’s not that it doesn’t matter to me. It does,” he promised her. “It’s supposed to be a good day. And if you’re thinking about the wrong things, then it’s not worth it just to get it done. So you don’t want to get married before the baby—”

“But I do,” she insisted. “I just don’t know how we can manage it. It’s already December 10. I’m halfway through this thing, and if you suggest we get married at city hall, I might set you on fire—” She narrowed her eyes.

“I wasn’t going to say anything like that. Your divorce is final on January 27, isn’t it?” Jason asked. He rose and joined her at the desk, flipping back to January. “That’s a Tuesday. Let’s get married that Saturday. We need, what, a three day waiting period with the license? We’ll get it on Wednesday.”

Elizabeth frowned at him, then looked at the calendar date. “January 31.”

“Not February,” he pointed out.

“No, I guess you’re right about that,” she murmured. She’d still be twenty-seven weeks pregnant, but not quite as bad as she’d be in March— Elizabeth smiled at him. “January 31 it is.” She leaned forward to kiss him. “Thank you. For understanding.”

“Well—”

Jason’s reply was cut off when there was a knock on the door. Jason frowned, glanced at his watch. Cody’s shift didn’t start until ten—it was only nine. He sighed, set the coffee down, and went to see who it was.

He looked back at Elizabeth with a heavy sigh, some of the lightness sliding out of him. “It’s Sonny.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. She got to her feet, folded her arms. “I’ll go upstairs,” she said, moving towards the stairs.

“Just—just wait—” Jason held up a hand, and she stopped. Then he opened the door. “Sonny.” He cast his eyes over his friend and partner. Sonny looked exhausted, but he’d showered and shaved, looked more like his normal self. “Hey.”

“Uh, hey. So I—” Sonny’s mouth tightened when Jason didn’t move away from the doorway, didn’t let him in. He glanced past him, saw Elizabeth standing by the sofa. “I know I had…I had some problems yesterday.”

“Some _problems_ ,” Jason said slowly. “You locked your wife in her bedroom after she’d been trapped in a panic room for a week.”

Sonny winced, looked away. “Yeah. I—It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” he muttered. “But obviously it was—it was not.” He rubbed his face.

Jason didn’t need to look behind him to know that Elizabeth was probably glaring at Sonny—or worse, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sonny. You broke Carly’s trust. She’s not here. She’s at the Brownstone, and I wouldn’t bother trying to see her because Bobbie will kill you.” Jason raised his brows. “And I’m _not_ kidding about that.”

“I just—I was wrong. And—I lost it for a little bit there. It won’t happen again. I mean it—I—Carly can—she can take care of herself. Obviously, I can’t—” He grimaced. “I’ll let her figure out how to…how to handle this. I just—I needed you to know that I know it was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

He glanced past Jason, and Jason turned to see Elizabeth—still standing in the same spot, not coming near Sonny. “And I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I don’t—I don’t remember it, but I know I pushed you. You were just—you were trying to help Carly. Like you did last summer. And I got in your way. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth flicked her eyes at Jason, trying to gauge his reaction, and he sighed because he knew she’d try to make this better for him—that she’d do what Jason wanted her to do to ease any tension between Jason and Sonny. “I understand. It…it was a lot. And I know you…” She bit her lip. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose,” she finished.

“Okay. Okay. Thank you. I appreciate that.” He looked at Jason. “I’m sorry,” Sonny repeated. “I’ll—let Carly know I’ll do whatever she needs me to do to make this okay.”

“I’ll tell her that,” Jason told him. “I got things covered at work.” He paused. “And it might be better if you didn’t come in. You could go down to the island for a few days. Take a break.”

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe.” Sonny rubbed his mouth. “I’m gonna go back—I’m just gonna go.”

When Jason closed the door and looked at Elizabeth, she shook her head. “He can’t really think Carly will forgive him, can he?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He walked over, pulled her against him, and sighed, just grateful she was there, in his life, and that he didn’t have to do any of this alone.


	13. Chapter Sixty-Three

_Maybe I should have loved you better_  
 _Maybe you should have loved me more_  
 _Maybe our hearts were just next in line_  
 _Maybe everything breaks sometime_  
 _Everything breaks sometime_  
\- Everything Breaks, Jewel

* * *

_Wednesday, December 10, 2003_

**Brownstone: Kitchen**

Carly stirred her coffee restlessly and looked over at her mother. “You didn’t have to stay home, you know. I’m okay—”

Bobbie lifted her brows, then sat back down to look over the newspaper. “I just want to make sure that no one bothers you.” She frowned at her watch. “Jason said he was going to arrange for security here, but maybe he hasn’t had a chance yet—”

“Sonny sent a lot of the extra guards down to Venezuela when they got word Ric was there,” Carly told her. “I don’t know if they’re back yet, and it’s not like I’m going anywhere—”

Bobbie looked ready to argue again, but the doorbell stopped her. With a grimace, she got to her feet and went to the foyer. A moment later, Carly heard the door open. “She’s _not_ talking to you.”

“Bobbie, just let me—”

Carly closed her eyes at the sound of her husband’s voice. It wasn’t fair for her mother to fight her battles for her. She needed to be stronger than that. She set her coffee down, then stood up to join her mother in the foyer.

Sonny was on the doorstep, Max visible at the base of the stairs outside. Bobbie had opened the door only partially—blocking Sonny from getting inside. He looked—normal, Carly decided. Like he had the morning before when they’d driven to Syracuse. His hair was neatly combed, his suit was pressed—

He shouldn’t look like that. He should look like hell—he should look _sorry_. Devastated by what he’d done to her—what he’d put her through.

_That_ _’s_ what was bothering her, Carly realized as she stepped into his line of view. Sonny didn’t just look normal—he looked _irritated_ at having to be there, at having to deal with Bobbie.

He did not look like a man who had locked his wife in a room the night before, leaving her traumatized and fleeing for her sanity.

“I’ll talk to him, Mama,” Carly said. “For a minute. He can come in.”

“Carly—” Bobbe said, her mouth tight with irritation. “I don’t think—”

“I think it’s important that I make myself clear,” Carly said. Bobbie sighed, then stepped back. Sonny stepped inside, closed the door behind him. He started to take off his jacket, but Carly held up her hand.

“You’re not staying.”

His hands stilled on his lapels, his dark eyes meeting hers. Then Sonny nodded slowly. “Okay. Then we’ll do this here. I’m sorry. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking clearly last night. I—I wanted you to be safe. To protect you. I didn’t do it the right way.”

Bobbie scowled but held her tongue.

“No, you didn’t, but we shouldn’t pretend that yesterday was the first time we’ve had an issue. Yesterday was just the final straw. From the moment I stood up to you—” Carly folded her arms as his expression tightened. “When I told you I didn’t want a deal, that I wanted to testify, you have punished me. You have tried to make me feel like there’s something wrong with _me_ for wanting that—”

“That’s ancient history—”

“I wanted that to be true,” Carly said softly, more to herself. “I wanted to think that it didn’t matter anymore, but it’s just the same problem, again and again, Sonny. You think that what you need and want matter more than me. Than what I need. What I want. And sometimes, yes, you’re right. But it can’t always be about you.”

Sonny scoffed. “Are you really standing there and claiming that our relationship is always about me? That’s bull, Carly—”

“No, it hasn’t been. And I’ve made mistakes, Sonny. I’ve done terrible things to you, trying to protect you—” Carly bit her lip. “But the difference is… _I_ _’ve_ tried to learn from those mistakes, and _you_ don’t think there’s anything you need to change. I told you I was going back to work. You never told me Leticia wasn’t coming back, and you never set me up with a driver or a guard—you trapped me in that penthouse, and if it hadn’t been for Jason, I wouldn’t have been able to leave. To go to work.”

Sonny narrowed his eyes. “I told you that was a mistake—”

“I would have left last week,” Carly told him. “That’s why I didn’t come home after work—why I was still at Jason and Elizabeth’s. Because I needed to think about what to say to you. But you came in with that panic attack, and I put it away. Because that’s what _you_ needed.”

Sonny pressed his lips together. “I can’t give you a trial, Carly. I can’t change the fact that Ric is out there somewhere, plotting his revenge—”

“We don’t _know_ that. We just know _maybe_ he’s in South America. Thousands of miles away. And this isn’t about a trial. It’s about whether or not you respect me. And you don’t, Sonny. More than that, I’m—” Her voice trembled. “I’m _afraid_ of you.”

Sonny flinched, then looked at the ground. “I know. I can’t—I’m sorry. I did a terrible thing, and I can’t take it back. I’d give anything—”

“You need more help than I can give you,” Carly told him. “I can’t do it alone. Jason can’t either. I should have pushed you last summer, but I thought we could handle this—”

“This is _your_ doing,” Sonny said, glaring at Bobbie, who snorted and shook her head.

“If I had any control over Carly, she never would have gone back in the first place,” Bobbie retorted.

“Mama,” Carly murmured, and Bobbie subsided. “You either go to counseling and figure out how to sort this out, Sonny, or I’m never coming back. I can’t go back into a marriage with a man whose mental illness—”

“I am _not_ crazy—”

“Then you _knew_ what you were doing when you locked me in our bedroom?” Carly shot back.

“Look, I said I was out of control last night. Christ, Carly, I barely remember most of it. I couldn’t even remember shoving Elizabeth, but if Jason can forgive that—”

“ _What_ did you do—” Bobbie cut in, stepping forward.

“Elizabeth?” Carly repeated. “What—” She shook her head. “What did—what do you mean? You—” She put up a hand in front of her. “You locked me in our bedroom, and I can almost understand that.”

“Carly—”

“ _Almost_ ,” she snapped at Bobbie impatiently. “When you get into these moods, Sonny, I _know_ your brain lies to you. I can follow the steps to see how you thought it was keeping me safe. It doesn’t make it right—but it makes sense. But you didn’t lay a hand on me. You didn’t hurt me.”

Sonny pressed his lips together. “So you can forgive me—”

“No. I can’t. Because you don’t _want_ to fix it. How do I know it won’t happen again? Did Elizabeth try to help me? Is that what happened? She got in your way? Tried to stop you?” When Sonny looked away, Carly nodded. “So you pushed her. She’s _pregnant_ , Sonny. Just like I was. How could you do that? And what happens the next time you lose it—the _next_ time I try to challenge you? Will you put your hands on me? What if Michael tries to stop it? Will you hurt him?”

“I would never lay my hands on my own son,” Sonny said with a shake of his head, a burning look. “You know that—”

“No, I _don_ _’t_ know that,” Carly managed. “And you don’t know that either. If you went after a pregnant woman that has never done a single thing to hurt you, how do I know I’m not next? That my children aren’t in danger? You need more than a sedative, Sonny. You need professional help. That’s my line in the sand. I’m not coming back unless something changes.”

“I am not weak, and I am _not_ crazy. There’s no chance in hell—”

“Then you can get out,” Carly said flatly. “We have nothing else to discuss.”

Sonny stared at her for a long moment, then turned to yank open the door. He stalked down the steps, and Bobbie slammed the door behind him.

Carly pressed a fist to her mouth, closed her eyes. “He doesn’t see it.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Bobbie sighed. “I’m sorry, Carly—”

“You warned me, Mama. Months ago.” Carly exhaled, then nodded. “This—this is the right thing to do. For me, for my kids, and for Sonny.” She looked at Bobbie. “Right?”

“Yes, But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.” Bobbie wrapped Carly into her arms and hugged her tightly.

**Kelly** **’s: Dining Room**

Around the time her son turned thirteen, Olivia realized she no longer knew exactly what Dante was thinking. He’d become a teenager, a species that was mysterious even to mothers. He’d come home moody and facial expressions gave her nothing to work with — she always got them wrong.

So, Olivia had tried to figure out other ways to know what Dante was thinking — he was her baby after all, and she wasn’t tagging out of the fight so easy—

But on this day—the day after his testimony had ended his cousins’ last chance at any freedom—Olivia thought it was time she tried simply asking what the hell was going on.

“I called your grandmother,” Olivia said as Lulu set their breakfasts down, then went back to the counter. She squinted slightly as she realized Dante wasn’t listening to her—but that his eyes had followed their waitress.

She twisted slightly, then raised her brows when she saw Lulu looking back—and her boyfriend, Dillon Quartermaine, scowling at them both.

“Oh, _that_ looks like trouble,” Olivia muttered. She snapped her fingers twice in front of his face, and Dante blinked.

“What?” He picked up his coffee. “You say something?”

“I could have announced I was runnin’ for President, and you wouldn’t have noticed,” Olivia said sourly.

“Are you old enough for that?” Dante asked with a frown. “Don't you have to be, like fifty? You’re not fifty. Are you?”

“You are _not_ funny.” Olivia narrowed her eyes. “And you have to be, like, forty-something. I don’t know. It’s not like I paid attention in history.” She rolled her shoulders. “Like I was sayin’, I called your grandmother this morning.”

“Isn’t she also _your_ mother?” Dante sipped his coffee.

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “On alternate Wednesdays when she’s not a pain in my ass. It won’t work, wise guy. You can’t distract me that easy. If you wanna go ask the blonde out—”

“She has a boyfriend,” he muttered. “And what about Grandma?”

“She still isn’t all that ecstatic with me or you, and she thinks Gloria Cerullo’s boys threw something at her window last night—”

“Aren’t Gloria’s _boys_ in their forties?”

“That’s what I told her. But I think she’s starting to come around. She said Frankie made her listen to the news reports again—they released the tape.”

“They—” Dante swallowed. “Already?”

“Not the whole thing. Not yet, anyway. Just the part where Vinnie admits it. No names, no details. Just that he did it.”

“So Grandma believes it.” Dante shrugged, pushed his home fries around on his plate.

“Fran never will—”

“Can we talk about Grandma naming her kids Francis and Francesca?” Dante asked. “Because that sounds more fun.”

“Hey. I’m just—I’m _trying_ here, Dante. No one is happy that yesterday had to happen. And I hate my sister, but I’m also sorry for her,” Olivia admitted. “It’s not like Vinnie was ever a shining star—we always knew he was an asshole, but there’s a difference between being my least favorite nephew and being a monster. If someone told me you did something so terrible, I don’t know if I’d believe it either—”

“Ma.” Dante looked at her, and Olivia closed her mouth. “Look, I just don’t want to talk about it. It’s done. Taggert told us that Vinnie’s pleading guilty to the original deal. It’s done,” he repeated flatly. “I did what I had to do.”

“I know—”

“And Grandma—I’m just—” Dante looked away, and Olivia frowned.

“Did she say anything to you, baby? After the hearing? I know you told me yesterday she didn’t, but—”

“No.” Dante took a deep breath, met her eyes. “No, she didn’t. It’s fine. Even if she believes Vinnie did it, she’s still angry at me for going against family. So…let’s just leave it where it is for now, okay?”

Olivia pursed her lips, then nodded. “All right. We’ll let it go for now. For now,” she repeated. She lifted her eyebrows. “Now tell me about the blonde behind the counter. How long has that been going on?”

“Ma—”

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason** **’s Office**

Johnny O’Brien stifled a yawn as he sat down on the sofa. He’d taken the red eye from Puerto Rico the night before, to tell Jason and Sonny in person about Caracas, and what the next step should be. “No Sonny?” he said, accepting the coffee that Bernie gave him.

Jason didn’t look at Bernie or Justus, hoping they wouldn’t change their expression. “He’s not coming in today. Is there something he needs to know?” he asked, leaning against the desk. “Did you find out anything?”

“No,” Johnny started, but Tommy Marcheski scowled.

“Sonny’s been all over this for the last month, and now he doesn’t show up? When he dragged me in here? I got shit to do—this isn’t even my problem—”

“I know that,” Jason said, irritated. “I know Sonny called this meeting, but he’s not here. Suck it up. Let’s just stop pissing each other off, and you can go back to worrying about the clubs.”

Tommy’s scowl didn’t lessen, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Nothing from Caracas?” Jason asked Johnny. “I know you said there was nothing the first time, but—”

“Nothing this time either. I went personally,” Johnny told him. “Michelena called me, told me he’d seen Ric in the marketplace. I went to talk to him—to get to the bottom of it. He said he’d seen him, and one of his guys said he also saw the same guy. But Michelena never saw Ric before, and was comparing it to a picture.”

“So it could be anyone who might look like Ric.”

“Exactly. To be honest, Jason, I’m not sure this is worth all the trouble you’re going to,” Johnny told him. He nodded at Tommy. “I’ve got the casinos to worry about, and Sonny keeps dragging me up here to report, to deal with crap that isn’t my responsibility. I’d say Francis should be handling it since security is his thing, but—”

“You’re not…” Jason hesitated. “You’re not wrong. I have some, uh, contacts from Interpol,” he told them. “They’ve been looking into it—no, we don’t have anyone officially on our payroll,” Jason said when Johnny looked interested. “But Lansing is an international fugitive at this point—Interpol says they can’t trace him out of the country either.”

“So we have maybe two sightings, two thousand miles away from Port Charles.” Johnny shrugged. “Can’t we just say that the asshole has left the country and is long gone?”

“He should have been dead months ago,” Tommy muttered. He glanced at Jason, who was glaring at him. “Sorry, Jason. I am. And I get it. It’s personal, and I’m glad your girl is fine. I’m glad Carly is fine. But you’re screwing over the business to look for him. So, if it’s business, then fine. Let me shoot this fucker on sight. If it’s not, then let us do what we need to do and stop obsessing over it.”

“I’ll talk to Sonny,” Jason said, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry. Neither one of you will be asked to report on Lansing again. You’re right. It’s been over a month. If Ric was coming for us, he’d have done it already. He’s not going to use the business again.”

“Good. Now, can I go to sleep?” Johnny demanded, handing the coffee back to Bernie.

“Yeah, get out of here.”

When Tommy and Johnny had both left, Jason exhaled slowly, looked at Justus and Bernie. “They’d never say it to Sonny, but they’re not the only ones who think we’re wasting our time.”

“No,” Bernie admitted. “So, if you can get Sonny to back off from using _all_ the resources to go after Lansing, then it would smooth a lot of things out.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, speaking of things aren’t really my business, I wanted to ask how Mrs. C is.”

“She’s fine,” Jason said, shortly. Carly was at the Brownstone, and he hadn’t been able to go see her yet. Elizabeth had said she’d do that for him, but he’d feel better if he saw her in person.

“Jason, I gotta tell you, I’m not comfortable with what happened last night,” Justus told him. “With just…pretending it didn’t happen—”

“I’m not—we’re not doing that,” Jason cut in. “Carly took the kids, and she’s with her mother. She’s probably not coming back. But it’s not any different than what happened last summer.”

Justus squinted. “I’m not just talking about Carly, Jason. I’m talking about…” He shook his head. “It’s not my place—but Sonny was out of control last night. Are _you_ comfortable living across the hall from him?”

Jason stared at him for a long moment. “Say what you want to say, Justus.”

“Fine. You planning on doing anything about what he _did_ to Carly? What about Elizabeth? What if no one else had been there last night—if Elizabeth had been alone when she found out Sonny locked Carly up?” Justus demanded. “He put his hands on her, he locked up his wife and scared Carly so badly, she went a little crazy, but you’re just gonna say you sedated him, so it’s fine now?”

“I—” Jason didn’t have an answer for that. Hadn’t even thought to remember how often Elizabeth was alone in the penthouse—

He’d left her alone there today. Cody was outside, and sure, Max was usually there. But—

“It’s not fine,” Jason said after a long moment. “And we’re still sorting it out. I’m waiting to see what Carly wants to do.” But he knew Elizabeth was uneasy about Sonny, that she’d accepted his apology to smooth things over for Jason—

“I don’t know, Justus,” Jason continued. “Nothing that happened last night is okay. I just don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “It’s not that simple.”

“It would be for me,” Justus retorted. “A man puts his hands on a woman—” He stopped. “None of us did anything last night to protect Carly or Elizabeth, and it doesn’t sit right with me. Sure, you got her out of that room, but it just—it _bothers_ me.”

“You think I should have punched him?” Jason asked darkly. “When he pushed Elizabeth? Is _that_ what I should have done?”

“Yeah—”

“Should I have stopped helping Carly so I could do that? You didn’t do it either, Justus. If you have a problem with how I’m handling this, go ahead. Tell me how I could have done better.”

“I don’t think Justus thinks you did the wrong thing,” Bernie said, stepping between them before Justus could snap back. “I think we’re all just concerned. I was very worried about Carly all night, Jason. Watching her go through that—it was upsetting. And we’re just—we’re just sorting it out.”

“She didn’t know where she was, Jason,” Justus said. “She thought she was back in that panic room—and _Sonny_ did that to her. How do I work with him after this? After knowing what he’s capable of?”

“You’re not the only one asking those questions, Justus.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I just—I don’t have the answers. I’m sorry.”

“You better find them before Sonny does some serious damage next time.” Justus picked up his briefcase and stalked out. After a moment, with an apologetic smile, Bernie followed.

**Brownstone: Living Room**

When Carly opened the door to find Elizabeth on the steps, the blonde frowned slightly. “Uh, hey. I wasn’t—I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Jason is going to try to stop by after work,” Elizabeth told her, “but he wasn’t sure how late he’d be. So I told him I’d check in.” She bit her lip. “Um…can I come in? Or…”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.” Carly stepped back and let Elizabeth into the foyer. “I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s been a weird day.”

“I’m sure.” Elizabeth took off her jacket, hung it on a hook in the hall. “How are you?”

“Not entirely sure,” Carly admitted as she led Elizabeth into the living room. They sat on the sofa. “Michael doesn’t seem to think anything is wrong. I guess he’s just…” She sighed. “He’s used to being moved around.” She twisted her wedding ring on her finger, staring down at it. “I don’t…remember a lot of last night.”

When Elizabeth didn’t say anything, Carly looked at her. “You said you had this last summer. The disorder. Did you have memory problems?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth scratched her forehead. “Um, it depended on how bad it was mostly. I got trapped in an elevator about a month after the crypt—I don’t remember any of that, just finally snapping back in the waiting room at the hospital, with my grandmother looking at me weird. And then I had panic attacks that weren’t as bad. I could kind of—” Elizabeth squinted. “I could sort of hear myself, but I couldn’t stop myself, you know? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It does. I don’t think I’d had anything like last night happen before,” Carly admitted. “Where I didn’t remember anything. I was having nightmares or losing track of time, but…it was kind of scary, to be honest. To come back to myself, be at Jason’s and not know why.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Kevin told me it was about triggers. And some are worse than others. For a while, Michael was a trigger because he was the last thing I saw before I passed out.”

“I’m so sorry, Carly.” Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “I think the scariest thing is not _knowing_ what might be a trigger. The worst attack I think I ever had was back in July. Jason had that letter from Baker, and he put it down in front of me. He was going to tell me he’d gone to see him in Pentonville—but seeing the letter—I started to relive the night I was attacked. I disappeared into that night. Jason tried to help me, and I scratched his arm—” She exhaled slowly. “It seems so silly that the letter would do it.”

She looked at Carly. “I’m sorry, Carly. I wish I’d done something sooner. I think—I think after last week, after the way Sonny acted when he couldn’t find you—”

“You did the same thing I did. You put it away. Because Sonny can’t fall apart,” Carly told her. “When he falls apart, it makes things worse. When I was missing—Sonny couldn’t function, and Jason had to do everything. We’ve been covering for him for years, and it’s not working. It’s getting worse.”

“I know.” Elizabeth paused. “Sonny came over this morning. To apologize to Jason, to me, but I—” She grimaced. “I got the feeling that he thinks that should be enough. Did—was he here? We told him to leave you alone, but I got the feeling—”

“Yeah, he came over to apologize. He said Jason forgave him for shoving you—” Carly scowled. “I don’t—I don’t remember him doing that. I can’t—It’s like, I heard the door being locked, and my brain just—it flipped out. When—”

“I don’t know how long you were up there alone,” Elizabeth said. “I just know that Jason and I had been home from the hearing for about two hours—we were just sitting down with some dinner when Justus and Bernie came over. We could hear some shouting, but it didn’t sound—” She pressed her lips together. “It didn’t sound so bad at first. But then Sonny came in—he looked terrible, and then we could hear you _screaming_.”

Carly rubbed her throat. “You could hear me screaming all the way from the other side of the building? That explains why my throat hurts—”

“I started to leave to check on you, but Sonny pushed me back to stop me. I knew—we both knew something was wrong, so we went to get you.” Elizabeth looked at her. “You were in the bedroom, but you thought you were in the panic room.”

“I—” Carly blinked at her. “I did. I saw you. I thought—I thought Ric had put you in with me. Or maybe—maybe I thought I was watching you on the monitors. Drinking the water.” Carly closed her eyes. “I screamed at you all the time to stop drinking, but you couldn’t hear me.”

“You told me not to drink the water last night. Jason held Sonny back, and I brought you over to the penthouse. It’s—that’s what happened.”

“That’s what happened,” Carly repeated. “Mama didn’t know all of the details. She just knew the basics. I wanted the details. I need to know how bad it was. I can’t remember, but if I don’t know, I might forget.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to forget. He did that to me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know he thought he was protecting me. I understand that. He probably—he can explain it that way to himself, and I can get it. He hurt you because he didn’t want you to get in his way—to stop him from protecting me. But—” Carly shook her head. “But that can’t be okay. I can’t live like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Jason went to work today. And—” Carly frowned. “You said Justus and Bernie were over at the penthouse. Why? It—it was after eight. They don’t—” She touched Elizabeth’s arm. “What happened?”

“Someone saw Ric again in Caracas,” Elizabeth said. “Which is good news. Because it means he’s still far away from us. Sonny had organized some meeting today with a bunch of the guys. I don’t—I don’t really know them all. But it was important, and Jason had to handle it. That’s why he didn’t come over yet—”

“Because he’s putting out all the fires. Like usual. I thought—I thought going back to the penthouse would make his life easier,” Carly confessed. “I didn’t—I thought if I were somewhere Sonny could see me, he wouldn’t lose it. He would stay focused, and Jason wouldn’t have to do everything.”

“But that’s not what happened.”

“No.” Carly was quiet for a minute. “I told Sonny that if he doesn’t get professional help, I’m not coming back. Do—” She looked at Elizabeth. “Do you think Jason will back me on this?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said immediately. “Of course he will.” Then she hesitated. “I just don’t know if…if Sonny will do it.”

“Because it’s not like Jason is going to push him to do it. Yeah, I know. And God knows, it’s clear that Sonny doesn’t respect me enough to do it because I’ve asked him to.” Carly frowned, reached for Elizabeth’s hand again. “This—this ring is new. Isn’t it?”

“It is,” Elizabeth said with a hesitant smile.

“It’s nice. Ruby, right? Did Jason give that to you? After the hearing?” Carly asked.

“He did. Um, it’s nearly the same shade as a piece of Venetian glass he gave me a few years ago.” Elizabeth twisted the ring on her finger. “I don’t know if this is the right time—but after the hearing, he asked me—he asked me to marry him.”

“Oh.” Carly’s eyes widened slightly, and she took Elizabeth’s hand against to examine the ring more closely. She remembered another ring Jason had bought—a gaudy diamond ring that Carly had helped him pick out.

“I know it’s not a diamond—Emily said the same thing when I went over for lunch,” Elizabeth continued. “She thought it was confusing, but—”

“But it probably means more that it’s not,” Carly said, looking at Elizabeth. “That Jason picked something for you.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth’s face lit up, and she looked at the ring. “Yeah. Exactly. I mean, diamonds are nice. And they’re great. But I’ve had two other engagement rings. And Jason gave Courtney a diamond.” She wrinkled her nose. “She made sure I saw it when we were still working together.”

“Yeah, that does sound like her.” Carly released her hand, managing a smile of her own. “I’m happy for you. And for Jason. Really. Yesterday—it was a tough day, but I’m glad you’ll be able to remember it for good reasons.”

“Me, too. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll pack things for you, or run interference if I need to—” Elizabeth started to stand, then swayed slightly—her hand reached out for something to hold on to—her knees buckled—

Carly lunged up—caught Elizabeth before the brunette fell to the ground, got her to the sofa. “Elizabeth, whoa—are you—”

“Dizzy.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Just—just lost my balance—”

But Carly went to the stairs to call upstairs to the second floor apartments— “Lucas! Felix! Are either of you home?”

“Carly—” Elizabeth managed from the sofa.

A door opened from above, and Felix stuck his head out. “Carly? What’s up?”

“Elizabeth Webber. She’s having a dizzy spell—”

“Be right down. Get her some water—”

“Carly—”

“Quiet.” Carly went to the kitchen to fill a glass of water, and when she returned to the living room, her brother’s boyfriend was kneeling in front of Elizabeth, her wrist in his hand.

“Your pulse is thready.” Felix peered at Elizabeth’s face. “You’re flushed—your pupils are dilated—how’s the breathing? Can you breathe deeply for me?”

“Um.” Elizabeth grimaced, shook her head. “N-No, but that’s normal.”

“Normal?” Carly repeated. “I knew you were still having issues sometimes, but how often—”

“Are you short of breath a lot, Elizabeth?” Felix asked. He took the glass of water from Carly and handed it to Elizabeth. “Lucas told me about your embolism.”

“I’m calling Jason—”

“Carly—”

But the blonde wasn’t listening. She rummaged around for her cell phone and started to dial.

“I don’t want to worry him—”

But Carly wasn’t listening, and her call had already connected. Elizabeth grimaced, then looked at Felix, answered the question he’d asked before Carly had decided to call Jason. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. A few times a day.”

“Just a few times a day?” Felix raised his brows. “Or is it more?”

“It’s…a lot. But I’m pregnant. I’m supposed to be tired. Aren’t I?” Elizabeth frowned at him. “I—I’m just tired.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is. I’m in my second year of the nursing program,” Felix told her. “So obviously, I’m not a doctor, but I will say that being short of breath a lot isn’t a super common side effect of pregnancy. Dizziness, fatigue, sure. But with your medical history, I wouldn’t disregard it.”

“Jason is on his way over. He said to stay put,” Carly told her. “Felix, what can I do?”

“She’s okay—her pulse is starting to return to normal.” Felix tapped the water. “Drink. You might be slightly dehydrated. You could have stood up too fast. Could be a lot of things.”

“Great. A lot of help,” Elizabeth muttered, but then smiled at him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate you coming down.”

“Any time. What’s the point of having me and Lucas upstairs if you can’t use us?” Felix got to his feet, looked at Carly. “You want me to stick until Jason gets here?”

“No.” Carly looked at Elizabeth, who did look a lot better. “No, unless you think you need to—”

“I’ll just hang for a minute or two. Make sure you finish that water.”

“Oh, shoot,” Carly muttered when the baby monitor on the table emitted a cry. “I have to check on Morgan.” She turned and went down the hall.

Elizabeth and Felix sat in silence for a few minutes as her breathing slowly returned to normal, and she could feel her lungs relaxing. She sipped her water, then looked at the younger man standing by the windows, peering out onto the street.

“Felix,” Elizabeth said, slowly. He turned to her. Lifted his brows. “What would you say if I told you I’m short of breath often, and that I also have to use an oxygen tank sometimes when I get upset and hyperventilate? Does…could that explain the dizziness?”

Felix frowned. “I know that sometimes PE sufferers are given oxygen therapy afterward because exertion and stamina are a challenge, but you should be mostly recovered from that. The pregnancy—” He hesitated. “Did it go away after your PE? Or did it get worse since you got pregnant?”

“It went away for a while, but it’s back. And it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks,” Elizabeth admitted. “Maybe I just pushed myself yesterday. Maybe I just need to rest—”

“Maybe. I think you should talk to your doctor to make sure.” Felix glanced over when Carly came back, Morgan in her arms. “I’ll head upstairs—”

The front door opened, and Jason came in then, his chest heaving slightly as if he’d run from the warehouse. “What’s wrong?”

He went over to the sofa, sat next to Elizabeth, took her hand in his to measure her pulse. Elizabeth grimaced, and with her free hand, finished her water.

“Dizzy spell,” Felix told Jason. “I had her drink water, checked her pulse, and rest. Seems like it’s calming down.”

“I’m okay,” Elizabeth assured Jason. She showed him the water. “I probably didn’t drink enough water at lunch.” She paused. “But I’ll talk to Kelly and Monica about it tomorrow when we have the ultrasound.”

Jason met her eyes, and she saw the worry there. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. If you want to wait—”

“They can’t do anything about it today. I’m fine right now.” She started to stand, and Jason pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I am—” She touched his chest. “I’m okay now. I probably should have stayed home.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Go back to work,” she told him with a smile.

“No, I’ll—” Jason looked at Carly for a minute before focusing on Elizabeth again. “I’ll take you home—”

“You wanted to stop by and talk to Carly today anyway,” Elizabeth reminded him. “If Felix walks me to the car—Cody will take me home. And I promise — I’ll call Monica when I get there.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason began again, but then sighed. Nodded. “Okay. Call me when you talk to Monica, and I’ll bring home dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She kissed him, then went to the hallway to get her coat. Jason watched her out the window as Felix walked her down the stairs and didn’t look away until Cody had driven away.

Felix went back upstairs, and Jason turned to Carly. “Hey. Thanks for calling me.”

“Sure. She didn’t want me to, but I figured—” Carly folded her arms. “Is she okay, Jase? I know she was having trouble yesterday, and then I didn’t think about last night—”

“She’s—she probably pushed herself.” He didn’t look convinced, but Carly didn’t want to make him feel worse. He shook his head, trying to put it out of his mind. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Really—” Carly offered him a hesitant smile. “Sonny came by, and I told him I’m not coming home until he gets help. He won’t listen, I’m sure, but I can’t—I can’t keep doing this.”

“I’ll try to convince him,” Jason said. He paused. “I’m sorry about what happened. That I didn’t do more—”

“ _I_ could have done something, too, Jason. I knew weeks ago he was being too controlling—I should have stopped it. But I gave in. I told myself I was compromising, that I was trying to meet him halfway—” Carly shook her head. “But I wasn’t. I was humoring him, and it just made it worse. I just—I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Me, either,” he admitted. He looked out the window, and she knew he was still thinking about Elizabeth.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Carly told him softly. “Elizabeth told me you proposed. It’s a beautiful ring.”

“Oh.” Jason looked back at her, and she could see that he was still preoccupied with worry. Once that would have driven her absolutely insane, knowing that Jason’s entire attention wasn’t on her. “Yeah, thanks. I—”

“You don’t have to feel bad about being happy.” She walked forward and hugged him tightly. After a moment, he hugged her back. “I’m happy for you. I didn’t always like her, but I’m glad you’ve found someone who fits.” She kissed his cheek, pulling back. “I’ll try really hard not to mess up _this_ wedding.”

Jason smiled then, and Carly was happy to see it was more genuine. “You didn’t mess up the last one, Carly.”

“No, it turns out I did you a favor. I would have preferred objecting in dramatic fashion, not getting kidnapped, but I’m not going to argue with the results.” Carly shrugged.

“Me either.” He kissed her forehead. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. And same. I want to know how your appointment goes,” Carly told him as he started to leave. “Don’t forget — this friendship thing is supposed to work both ways.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll call you.”

“I’m counting on it. Now, go wait for Elizabeth’s call because you won’t be able to concentrate until she talks to Monica.”

**PCPD: Commissioner** **’s Office**

Anna knew she was walking into a tough place, returning to the PCPD after a decade away—most of which she’d spent being dead, she reflected ironically as she set a photograph of herself and Robin on the desk, smiling at her daughter’s face.

She’d seen a lot of resentful glares she’d walked in that morning, but Anna wasn’t scared of hard work and didn’t mind dealing with idiots. She was used to it, after all. While Mac was a good man who had tried hard to do a good job, he hadn’t been strong enough to speak truth to power.

That had never been a problem for Anna.

She spent her morning arranging her office and catching up on open cases—spending time grimacing at the budget for Organized Crime and being pleased with the improvements in Major Crimes.

She glanced up around eleven when Taggert came in, a uniformed officer trailing behind him. She got to her feet, removed her glasses, and extended her hand. “Lieutenant, it’s nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Taggert said, shaking her hand. “This is Cruz Rodriguez. He was one of the rookies that started last summer.”

“Ah, yes, you’re being fast-tracked for detective status,” Anna said with a smile. “I read over the Lansing file for this morning. You did good work.”

“I sat in a car—”

“Really? Is that all?” Anna picked up a memo, put her glasses on again. “Was the Lieutenant incorrect when he said you ‘provided essential input in making sure that the investigation stayed targeted on Ric Lansing and absolved his wife of any prior knowledge?’”

“Uh—”

“Or that ‘Officer Rodriguez displayed courage and conviction when challenging superior officers on the complicity of Elizabeth Webber, not allowing prior biases to interfere, using facts to correctly ascertain that Ms. Webber and Mr. Morgan were working together to investigate the kidnapping, not cover it up?’” Anna set the report down. “Was the Lieutenant mistaken?”

“I—” Cruz frowned, looked at Taggert. “Um. I wouldn’t have written it that way, but I guess I did tell Capelli he was wrong a few times.”

“Which he was. You didn’t just sit in the car, Rodriguez,” Taggert told him.

“In any case, Lieutenant Taggert speaks very highly of all three of the rookie officers on his squad, and I’ve been impressed by the reports I’ve read from Major Crimes. Scott Baldwin has also been very happy with the cases turned over in the last six months,” Anna said as Taggert and Cruz took seats in front of her desk. “If only Organized Crime were doing as well—” She raised her brows at Taggert. “Any hope of getting you back over there to clean things up?”

“Uh, not at the moment, no. I was…burnt out,” Taggert said. “Too many years chasing Corinthos—I forgot why I was here.”

“Fair enough. The reason I wanted to speak with you today was the Lansing case. I understand that we’ve had a source passing us information about his potential whereabouts.” Anna tapped her pencil. “Have you learned anything that isn’t in these reports?”

“Only that there was another potential sighting in Caracas—the El Recreo Shopping Mall—but by the time it gets to us, it’s usually a day or two old,” Taggert said. “Mac told us you’d been working with Interpol on this even before taking over.”

“That’s true. I’ll pass the new Caracas info over to Interpol, and see what they can find out, but I think it’s time to let this case ago.”

Cruz tensed. “Let it go?” he repeated.

Taggert hesitated. “Commissioner—”

“Anna, please.” Anna sighed. “I understand how difficult this case was for the department—I read the coverage as well. I also know how dangerous Ric Lansing is. Or was. I assure you — I don’t make this decision lightly. But all evidence suggests he is out of the country.” Anna raised her brows. “Is there any point in pretending this case isn’t already cold?”

“No, but—” Taggert exhaled slowly. “No. I just…” He looked at Cruz, who also seemed more upset than Anna might have expected.

“It’s personal,” Cruz admitted. “It was—it was my first case. And I was there when we found Carly—when—”

“When Elizabeth Webber had her health crisis. I didn’t—” Anna bit her lip. “I realize there is a personal aspect to all of this, but—”

“Right after the Lansing case, the park rapes—that blew up—and Elizabeth was part of it almost from the beginning,” Taggert told her. “She didn’t know that, but I was investigating her case almost from the day Brooke Lynn Ashton was attacked. I know you’re right. Lansing’s long gone, and it’s a job for international authorities at this point, but saying that—putting the case on the shelf—”

“It’s like letting her down again,” Anna said after a moment. “Because you didn’t do more to catch Ric and find Carly earlier—because she nearly died. And what happened originally with her case. I understand that.”

“But you’re right.” Taggert rubbed his face. “The case is cold. So…let’s…let’s put it away. For now.”

**Ward House: Entry Way**

Justus could hear laughter and music from the kitchen the moment he entered the house. He stood there for a moment, his briefcase in his hand, his jacket still on, and just listened to the sounds of his wife and daughter making dinner. He heard a third voice singing along with Jill Scott, and Justus remembered why his sister-in-law was there.

And what today was.

He hung up the jacket and left the briefcase in the hallway, hurrying back to see his girls.

“Daddy!” Kimi proclaimed from her booster seat. He swung her into his arms, then leaned over to kiss his wife.

“Hey, did you sign it?” he asked with a smile.

Tamika looked over at her younger sister, Portia Robinson, and smirked. “I told you he didn’t forget.”

“I never said he would,” Portia said with a sniff. She stirred the sauce on the stove. “And yes—” Her smirk blossomed into a grin. “We signed it! Portia’s Closet is officially coming to Port Charles!”

“And Aunt Portia, too!” Kimi said. She put her hands on Justus’s cheeks so he’d look at her. “Just in time for Santa!” She wiggled, and Justus put her down so Kimi could hug her aunt’s legs. “Miss you.”

“Miss you, too, sweets.”

“Did you _really_ remember?” Tamika murmured under her breath as Justus slid an arm around her waist.

“Not until I heard Portia,” Justus admitted. “It’s—it’s been a long day.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “But I’m home now.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

He hesitated. “Maybe later.” When his wife just frowned at him, Justus added, “Definitely later. I just—I need to take a minute. Let’s celebrate. We’ll open that wine Elizabeth and Jason gave us.”

“Already pulled it out and opened it to let it breathe.” Tamika kissed his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

Jason stepped off the elevator and started to turn towards his penthouse, wanting to check on Elizabeth—

But he stopped just before he turned the corner, took a deep breath, then went in the opposite direction. He couldn’t put this off anymore.

He nodded at Max, standing in the doorway as usual. “Hey. I guess Sonny’s here?”

“Yeah, he got home a few hours ago. Hasn’t come out.” Max hesitated. “Uh, Jase, is there something I should be doing? I mean…” The guard looked towards the closed door, then swallowed. “Last night was a lot.”

“I know.” Jason paused. “I guess, at this point, could you give me a heads up if he leaves? Or goes over to see Carly? Just so I can—” Prepare. Get ready to do damage control or step in—Jason didn’t really know what he wanted—

“Yeah, sure, sure.” Max knocked then and pushed open the door. “Hey, Mr. C. Jason’s here.”

Jason went in and found Sonny in the living room, drinking a tumbler of bourbon—like usual. Like nothing had happened.

“Hey. How did the meeting go?” Sonny asked. He set the tumbler on the minibar. “Did Bernie or Justus have anything?”

Jason squinted at him, then shook his head slightly. “No. Still nothing. But he’s in South America, obviously. Not here.”

“Until one of _our_ guys lays eyes on him, I’m not ready to accept that,” Sonny told him with a scowl. “The sooner I get Ric out of the picture, the sooner Carly will get over this.”

“Get over this,” Jason repeated.

“And look, can you talk to Elizabeth for me?” Sonny asked. He picked the bourbon up again, sipped it. “If she doesn’t forgive me, she’ll just keep badmouthing me to Carly, making her think I need help.”

“You—” Jason bit off the retort, fisted his hand at his side to help him keep his temper in check. “I talked to Carly. You might want to consider what she’s asking, Sonny.”

“Oh, don’t start—”

“You were thinking about it last summer,” Jason reminded him. “After Carly got home—you need to do something—I can’t do this again—”

“Then get Carly and Elizabeth to get back down about this stupid trial,” Sonny told him, flatly. “Carly and I can’t argue about Ric if he’s dead. She understands I wanted to keep her safe. She’s just afraid I’ll do it again if she comes home.”

“I—” Jason didn’t have the words, didn’t have the first clue how to convince Sonny that it was _Carly_ who was right—that it was insane to suggest that Carly’s only problem was that Ric was still alive.

And because he didn’t know what to do, Jason did nothing. There was no point in wasting his breath when the woman he loved was sitting at home alone. All he wanted to do was sit with her and make sure she was okay.

“I’m not having this argument with you,” Jason told him. “Carly will do what’s right for her. But she’s right. You need more help than I can give you,” he added when Sonny gave him a dark look. “And it’s not up to me to tell Elizabeth to forgive anyone. You put your hands on her, Sonny. You know what she’s been through—you know she’s pregnant—and you still shoved her. What if Bernie hadn’t been there? What if she’d fallen?”

Sonny stared at him, a bit blankly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you didn’t. But you still did it. And if you don’t think that’s a problem, I can’t force you to see it either. Good night.”

When he reached the door of his penthouse, he stopped in front of Cody. “If Elizabeth is alone at home,” Jason began, “don’t let Sonny in.”

Cody frowned at him. “What?”

“Just—for right now,” Jason told him, putting up his hand to make it clear it wasn’t up for debate.

“Okay.”

Inside, Elizabeth was sorting through a stack of magazines, then smiled when he came in. “Hey.”

Jason sat next to her, leaned over to kiss her. “Hey,” he murmured against her mouth. He brushed his hand down the back of her head, sliding his fingers through hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she told him. She held out her hand. “Want to check?”

“No, I trust—” Jason winced, then took her wrist. “I trust you,” he finished almost on a mutter but started to take her pulse anyway. It was normal again, and something inside eased. “Sorry.”

“I know. Sometimes it’s not about what _I_ _’m_ saying, it’s about how _you_ _’re_ feeling.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “I came home, I drank more water. Monica said everything is fine until tomorrow, and Cody sent someone for dinner when you called to let me know you’d be late—”

“Capelli’s trying to get a raid on the warehouse approved for this weekend,” Jason said with a wince. “I’m sorry—”

“ _Stop_ apologizing. You called,” she reminded him. “I wasn’t worried. Plus, Emily came over for dinner, and she dropped off these magazines for me to start going through—”

He looked at the magazines, realized they were wedding related. Jason scrubbed a hand down his face, then sighed. “I know I suggested the end of January, but maybe—”

“We are not waiting until after the baby is born,” Elizabeth told him. “At least—” She bit her lip. “Not unless Kelly or Monica think we should. Emily said she’d try to do a lot of it on her breaks, and I know Bobbie would help. Plus, maybe it would distract Carly—I could delegate a lot of this, Jason—”

Jason pressed a thumb to her lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“You didn’t—” Elizabeth sighed. “I just…don’t want to wait. Now that we’re doing this—I just want to get on with our lives, you know? You, me, married. That’s—that’s the dream.” She searched his eyes. “Isn’t it? Is it so bad to want to get to the part where we’re living it? Not waiting?”

“No.” He kissed her again. “No. I want to be married to you, too.” Jason drew her against him, nodded at the magazines. “So, what kind of wedding are we looking at?”


	14. Chapter Sixty-Four

_She walks, she runs_  
 _She fights, almost as one_  
 _And finds her voice_  
 _She'll march_  
 _She has no choice_  
 _She's crushed by thoughts_  
 _At night of men_  
 _Who want her rights_  
 _And usually win_  
\- I’m Alive, Norah Jones

* * *

_Thursday, December 11, 2003_

**General Hospital: Kelly Lee** **’s Office**

“Good morning,” Monica said with a smile as she kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Is that the sonogram?”

“Yeah, the technician said she’ll have the video ready for us by the time we’re done.” Elizabeth beamed, handing the photo to her. “She said the baby looks great—and it’s a boy!”

“A boy?” Monica looked up from the photo at her, then looked at Jason with a huge smile. “Oh, that’s so wonderful!”

Most of the visit was routine by this point—Elizabeth had a physical exam—her vitals were taken, her blood and urine were tested—and then she completed the pulmonary function tests Monica insisted on—blowing into tubes, sitting in a plastic box with a nose clip — all things that Elizabeth hated, especially the box. Even with the clear walls, the space still felt small and cramped.

Especially since this month, it all seemed more difficult than it had at their last visit. Jason wasn’t allowed into the room for the last round of tests—and it was probably for the best because even Elizabeth could see the concern on Monica’s face.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, concerned. “Monica?”

“A few things we should discuss. Let’s go back and talk with Kelly. Some of your other results should be done by now.”

Elizabeth grimaced but followed Jason’s mother back into the office where Jason was waiting. He got to his feet. “Hey. How—”

“Fine.” She squeezed his hand. “I think.” But her voice trembled slightly, and her voice sounded a bit hoarse, worn out from the breathing tests. Jason put an arm around her, and they sat down, waiting for Kelly to come in.

“Hey—well, let’s start with the good news,” Kelly said with a smile. “I looked over the ultrasound results—you know you’re having a healthy baby boy. He’s developing just fine—everything is just where it ought to be. Blood and urine came back normal. So, you’re still doing fine in that area.”

“But?” Jason asked, looking at his mother. “What about Elizabeth?”

“I’m a bit concerned with some of the results, particularly the lung capacity and airflow tests. I’m not surprised that your lungs might have some damage due to what happened over the summer,” Monica told her. “And, fortunately, it often heals on its own with time and rest, but you told me before we got started you’ve been having breathing problems.”

“Yeah. Um, I’ve had a few dizzy spells. I haven’t _actually_ fainted,” Elizabeth said. “But there’s been a few times when I’ve—I’ve maybe pushed myself. The day of the hearing—I needed my oxygen tank a few times. It was the most I think I’d used it since I came home.” She looked at Jason. “Right?”

“You hadn’t used it since,” Jason confirmed with a nod. He kept his eyes on Monica. “Is—does she have another clot?”

“I’m not ruling it out,” Monica told them. “But I don’t think that would explain some of the results. You’re struggling to take a full, deep breath, and I can see that the oxygen isn’t quite circulating the way we’d like to see in your lungs or your blood. Are you having any chest pain?”

“Oh. No, no. Definitely not. I wouldn’t mess around with that. Jason wouldn’t let me either. I ignored it the last time,” Elizabeth told Kelly. “Because I knew I was in withdrawal from the Valium Ric had drugged me with. A lot of the symptoms were the same—but I’m not having any chest pain. Just sometimes—when it’s hard to breathe, my lungs burn, but it’s not the same feeling.”

“Well, that’s good.” Monica made a note. “And you’ve been monitoring your vitals? The pulse rate?”

“It’s been mostly normal except when she gets upset, then it’s fast,” Jason answered. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, drawing it into his lap. “But not irregular. It usually recovers with oxygen and rest. If it’s not a blood clot—”

“It could honestly be overexertion,” Monica told them. “You’ve been through a lot these last few months, Elizabeth. Maybe not resting as much as you should?”

“I…” Elizabeth’s throat felt tight as tears burned in her eyes. “I have been. I mean, when I got tired, and it’s just—it just started—” She looked at Jason. “I _promise_. It wasn’t this bad until—”

“You’re in the second trimester now,” Kelly said gently. “And it’s very possible that because of your medical history, common side effects just feel worse than they might under normal circumstances. You started this pregnancy with decreased lung capacity. We always knew there was a possibility that would make things harder towards the third trimester. Dizzy spells are normal. Being tired? Normal. We’re just concerned because you _are_ at an increased risk for blood clots, and we want to stay on top of it. To get ahead of any complications.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, exhaled slowly. “So it could be nothing. That’s…that’s good.”

“What Monica and I are going to suggest is that you _really_ focus on taking it easy these next few weeks. I hear you’re engaged,” Kelly said, with a smile, tipping her head towards Monica, whose cheeks flushed. “And hoping to get married at the end of January. Focus on that. Hire a wedding planner,” she added with a point of her pencil. “But just take it easy.”

“And after Christmas, if you’re still not feeling any better, we’ll schedule an echocardiogram and CT scan,” Monica said. “You’re absolutely right that things have been crazy lately. But now they should calm down, and we’ll see what’s what.”

As they returned to the elevator, Jason laced his fingers through hers. “Are you all right?”

Elizabeth sighed, tapped the button for the elevator, and looked at him. “It’s frustrating,” she admitted. “I was hoping for more certainty, you know? Some sort of declaration that it’s all fine, but I’m trying to focus on the positives. The baby is healthy.” She put a hand over her belly, smiling. “We’re having a boy, and he’s perfect. There might be nothing wrong with me at all. It just—it sucks.”

He put an arm around her shoulder as they boarded the elevator. “I know, but I’m glad Kelly and Monica aren’t that concerned,” he admitted.

“That’s true. And hey, a boy—” Elizabeth’s smile crept back on her face. “You already know a lot about boys. So—at least that’ll be easy.”

Jason drew her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Easy, huh? Just wait until he wakes up in the middle of the night and doesn’t go back to sleep.”

**Brownstone: Foyer**

Lucas shoved open the door, glaring at the dark sedan parked in his usual parking spot—he knew it was one of his sister’s stupid guards—Carly was back at the Brownstone, and so was all the drama that came with her.

Intending to remind Carly that other people lived here, too, and shouldn’t have to park a block away in the middle of winter, Lucas stalked into the living room, then started down the hallway to knock on the room she used when she stayed at the Brownstone.

“I appreciate you fitting me in—”

Lucas stopped just short of knocking on Carly’s slightly ajar door as her voice became clearer. He hesitated, realizing she was on the phone.

“No, I can wait until after the holidays. It’s so busy, and you should take time with your daughters—Right. No, it’s—I think I’ll be okay until then.”

Lucas frowned—was she making a doctor’s appointment? Who had a daughter?

“No, it’s—that was the worst time, and I don’t really remember it. I don’t think it’ll happen again—I’m just—I’m having trouble sleeping. And the time thing—” There was a long pause. “Okay. Thanks, Kevin. I’ll see you after the holidays. Have a great time in Seattle.”

When he was sure the phone call was over, Lucas gently knocked on the door, some of his previous irritation faded.

A minute later, the bedroom door opened, and Carly was there, wrinkling her face in confusion. “Lucas. Hey. Is—is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just—” He hesitated. “Your guard—” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Does he have to park right outside like that? It’s just—”

“Oh. Is it your parking spot? I’m sorry. I forgot—” Carly stepped out of her room. “I can tell him to find somewhere else—it’s just—it’s—I’m not used to having a guard here,” she admitted, folding her arms, turning back to face him in the hallway. “I didn’t before. Jason just relied on the security system Mama already had, and things were fine.”

“Ric being out on bail probably makes things a bit worse, then, huh?” Lucas asked. “Uh, if it’s that bad—why are you here?”

Carly bit her lip, frowned. “You don’t know what happened?”

“No,” Lucas drawled, “Mom just told me to pick up the kids from Laura and bring them to the house. I figured you and Sonny had a fight. Again.”

She sighed, looked down at her lap. Lucas grimaced because now he wondered if that was true. Or if there was something else he needed to know. “Carly? _Is_ everything okay?”

“I—” Carly sighed, looked at the ground. “You should probably know,” she said softly. “Last summer, after the panic room, I had some…problems adjusting. Um, being locked up, in the dark…it was a lot.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…Sonny’s been…very concerned about my safety.” Carly met his eyes. “And the other night, I was angry at him, I told him I was going to leave—and he locked me in the bedroom.”

“He locked you—” Lucas couldn’t finish the statement. “He locked you in.”

“Yeah. Believe it or not, he thought that made sense. So…it was a room with no windows, and I couldn’t leave.” Carly rolled her shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “I kind of lost it—I, um, thought I was back in the panic room, and Sonny wasn’t…all that kind about letting Jason and Elizabeth get me out. The door had to be broken down.”

“Oh.” Lucas swallowed hard, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Carly—”

“So, I’m here again. And the guard is here because I’m not—” Carly pressed her lips together. “I’m not altogether sure Sonny won’t…come back. I told him I’m not coming home, but he doesn’t always listen.”

Her voice was very quiet by the end of the statement, and Lucas wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen his sister look that small before. “The guard can stay. Outside the house. That’s—that’s the best place for him.”

“You’re sure?” Carly asked, skeptically. “Because I know me coming and going like this—especially after the last few years, the last time Sonny and I separated—not to mention—” She gestured with her hand at the space between them. “All the other ways I’ve messed up your life—I don’t want to make it worse.”

“I can live with walking an extra block. The guard’s fine. I’m—I’m sorry, Carly. I _really_ didn’t know.”

“No, I know. And it’s—it’s fine. Um, thank you. For understanding.” Carly folded her arms. “I’ll try not to make things too crazy here.”

Lucas nodded and then left her standing alone in the hallway as he left his mother’s part of the Brownstone and headed upstairs to his place. Sympathy—even empathy for his older half-sister was a strange feeling, and he didn’t know what to do with it.

**Quartermaine Estate: Terrace**

Jason stepped out from the family room to find his cousin standing on the terrace, waiting for him. “Hey. Grandmother said you were out there. What’s up?”

“Thanks for coming all the way out here,” Ned said.

“Is this about the Caracas tip? Did Interpol hear anything?” Jason asked. “You could have called—”

“I didn’t want any phone records. You coming here to see family—that’s normal. And no, nothing yet from Caracas,” Ned admitted. “I wanted to tell you that Anna has decided—and I’ve agreed—that there’s not a lot the PCPD can do on the Lansing case. It’s being ruled inactive. All evidence suggests he’s thousands of miles away.”

Jason exhaled slowly and looked out over the darkness of Lila’s rose gardens. It made sense, he knew that. If Ric was out of the country, it wasn’t as if there was a lot the PCPD could even do. After a month with no leads—

“Taggert wasn’t completely on board with it,” Ned continued, “but that’s because none of us want to admit Ric Lansing might get away with everything he’s done.”

Jason exhaled slowly, dipping his head, acknowledging _that_ was the biggest problem. He’d just watched Carly relive the terror of the panic room, and Elizabeth continued to battle physically and emotionally with the legacy of Ric’s crimes.

“She’s not…she’s not giving up,” Ned added when Jason remained silent. “It’s just—”

“It’s not something the PCPD can really handle anymore,” Jason said after a long moment. He nodded. “Yeah. I know. And you’re right. Ric’s probably in South America somewhere. If not Venezuela, then somewhere else. If he was planning anything—”

“He probably would have done it already,” Ned finished. “I’m sorry, Jason. I know how important this was to Elizabeth—and to Carly.”

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.” Jason turned to leave.

“Jason—Anna’s connections at Interpol are still investigating any tips we get. I’m not giving up on bringing him in.” Ned waited for Jason to look at him. “What Elizabeth did at the hearing—what she did for those other women, for my daughter, I want her to have this. Are you still in?”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded, thinking of Carly’s face two nights earlier, Elizabeth’s worries about her health— “Yeah, I’m still in.”

**Kelsey** **’s Apartment: Kitchen**

“It sucks,” Kelsey said as she handed Lucky his food from the takeout place, “but I agree with Anna. I mean, how much active work are you even doing on the Lansing case?”

“Not a lot,” Lucky admitted. He unwrapped the meatball sandwich, then shook his head. “At least we can say this wasn’t our fault. We didn’t lose him.”

“No, and Scott made sure the press remembered that our office tried to get bail denied for this exact reason.” Kelsey popped open her spaghetti and picked up a fork. “We got a pretty big win this week.”

“Yeah.” Lucky met her eyes, smiled. “Yeah, we did. You got the sentencing date?”

“Mmm-hmm, he’s being sentenced after Christmas. Twenty-five to life, same deal. Scott decided not to press his luck. Elizabeth already testified, and if we went to trial, all the crap Scott was worried about could come back—” She shrugged. “It’ll be over by New Year’s.”

“Those two girls Elizabeth told me about? The new victims? They filed reports.” Lucky wiped his mouth. “I took the statements today and forwarded them to Buffalo in case they decide to go forward with their case.”

“Well, at least they’re not nameless.” Kelsey sighed. “We get to close seven cases at once—don’t get to do that all that often. And he won’t be getting out any time soon. Maybe Ric Lansing gets away, but Vinnie’s going to rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lucky said. He picked up his beer, sipped it. “Speaking of Christmas—Mom wants you to come over for Christmas dinner.”

Kelsey hesitated. “Oh.”

Lucky frowned, looked across the table at her, but Kelsey didn’t look up from her dinner. “What’s wrong? I thought you and Mom were okay—you were fine at Thanksgiving—”

“No, no, your mom is great. It was obviously silly to be so worried about your parents.” Kelsey bit her lip. “It’s just—” She set her fork down and met his eyes. “Christmas is a thing I do with my mom. Just her. Ever since my dad died, she hasn’t really—I mean, we had the tree and everything, but Dad made just such a huge deal over the holiday—she always gets pretty sad this time of year.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your mom was still…” Lucky hesitated. “I mean, it’s been, what a decade?”

Kelsey pushed her hair behind her ear. “It’ll be ten years in June. I know, and mostly, Mom is fine. But she never got over losing my dad.”

“That really sucks. Maybe your mom might want to come up to Port Charles for a few days?”

Kelsey hesitated. “I don’t know, Lucky—”

“She already knows my parents, remember?” Lucky pressed. “She knew my mom because of Scott. And, well, everyone knows Luke Spencer. Especially if she lived here until 1994.”

“Maybe.” Kelsey pursed her lips. “I can always ask her. I mean, maybe it’s just hard because we don’t have a big family. It’s just us, you know. Maybe Mom would appreciate being part of a larger holiday, and she told me that she likes your mom.” She nodded. “Yeah, okay, I’ll ask her. Worst thing she can say is no, right?” She waited a moment. “But Lucky—if she does say no—”

“You’re going to Buffalo,” Lucky said, and Kelsey nodded. “That’s okay. It’s your mom, and she’s your family. I’d go with you, but—” He hesitated. “Last year, without my mom—”

“She just came home, Lucky. Of course, you should spend the day with her. And maybe my mom will come, so we’re worried about nothing. I’ll call her in a few days and find out.”

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

When Bobbie strode around the corner towards Sonny’s penthouse, Max snapped to attention, frowning. “Ms. Spencer, how did you—”

“Carly’s elevator key.” Bobbie held it up. “I took it out of her purse. I didn’t think Sonny would let me up, and I didn’t want to get Jason or Elizabeth in the middle of this. He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Uh, yeah, but he doesn’t really want to see anyone—”

“He’ll see _me_.” Bobbie walked past the dumbfounded guard and shoved open the penthouse door, stalking inside.

“Damn it, Max—” Sonny spun around from where he was standing by the fireplace. He scowled, finding his mother-in-law in front of him. “You have _one_ job—”

“What am I gonna do—” Max gestured at Bobbie. “How am I—” He threw up his hands and pulled the door shut, going back into the hallway.

“You here to tell me, ‘I told you so’?” Sonny asked Bobbie sourly. He walked over to the mini bar, poured himself a bourbon.

“Actually, _yes_.” Bobbie folded her arms, lifted a brow. “Because I believe I stood in this very room and told you that if you didn’t get help, if you didn’t do something to fix your problems, Sonny, we would be right here—with you at rock bottom, hurting the people around you.”

Sonny’s fingers clenched around the tumbler, then he forced himself to relax them. “I know what I did was wrong—”

“What you did to my daughter wasn’t wrong. It was _abusive_. You terrorized her.”

Bobbie’s flat, cold words jolted Sonny like an electric shock as he swallowed hard. “I never meant—”

“Your intentions don’t mean a _damn_ thing. I told you that I wasn’t going to let you hurt my daughter or my grandchildren—and that’s exactly what you did. I knew it was a mistake for her to come back here, but I let Carly make her choices. That’s done. She is _not_ coming back here.”

“You don’t get to decide that—”

“Oh, no?” Bobbie lifted her chin. “Try me, Sonny. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of—”

“And just _who_ do you think you’re saying that to?” Sonny cut in sharply. “You think you’re going to take my family from me?”

“I don’t need to take anything, Sonny, you already shoved them out the door.” Bobbie stabbed a finger at him. “You forced her to relive being trapped in that panic room. _You_ did that to her, not me. You locked her up for a month inside this penthouse and lied to her. You repeatedly made her feel like there was something wrong with her for demanding a little respect—and then you traumatized her by locking her in a small room with no windows. Why the _hell_ would she ever come back?”

Sonny glared at her, not sure what to say to that—how to even respond—he was sure he’d come up with something, sure that he’d find a way to make Bobbie understand—

But then the door opened again, and Jason stepped in, warily looking back and forth between them. “Bobbie.”

“Jason,” Bobbie said. Her eyes flashed at him. “What are _you_ going to do about this?”

“Do?” Jason repeated, taken aback. He blinked, looked at Sonny. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Sonny retorted. “Bobbie, leave him out of this—”

“He told me you forgave him for pushing Elizabeth—well, it must be _nice_ to have that kind of empathy,” Bobbie snarled at Jason, “—to be able to forgive someone who didn’t just abuse your best friend but put his hands on your pregnant fiancée—Congratulations, by the way,” Bobbie added with an acidity to her tone Jason had never heard before. “I’m sure Elizabeth is thrilled to be signing up for this life. But _my_ daughter is done. Keep him away from us.”

She shoved past Jason and stalked out of the penthouse. Jason exhaled slowly, turned back to Sonny. “You told Bobbie that I forgave you for what happened with Elizabeth?”

“I—” Sonny blinked, confused by that. “Yeah—you did—”

“Elizabeth is willing to let it go,” Jason said slowly, “because she thinks it will make things easier for me. But that’s not good enough or me. I’ve taken bullets for you. For your family. She’s _my_ family.”

“I—I know that—” Sonny cleared his throat. “Bobbie—she said—did you get engaged? Did I—” He licked his lips. “Did I know that?”

“No. It happened after the hearing. Yes, we’re getting married next month. She’s the most important person in my life, Sonny. You know that. You’ve known that for _months_. She’s pregnant with our son.” Jason’s eyes burned into his. “And I know you weren’t in your right mind when you pushed her. Elizabeth knows that. But that doesn’t mean either of us _forgives_ you.”

“I—” His mouth tasted like ash. “Jason—”

“You need to get this under control. I can’t keep doing this. I _can_ _’t_ keep carrying everything on my own.” Jason shook his head. “I came here to tell you that the PCPD is marking Ric as a cold case. Interpol is keeping it open, but as far as everyone is concerned, he’s somewhere in South America and isn’t coming back. It would be better for everyone if you just accepted that and moved on.”

“I—” Sonny swallowed. “I don’t know if I can.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, then turned and left. Sonny stared down into his bourbon, hoping like hell it was over.

“They all leave.”

He closed his eyes at the silky, familiar sound of his dead wife. He turned to find Lily lounging on the sofa, in her pink dress. “It’s not like that.”

“No? They’re not here. You’re alone.” Lily’s lips curved. “Just the way it’s meant to be.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

When Jason went upstairs, he found Elizabeth dressed in one of his T-shirts, sitting cross-legged on the bed, with a notebook in front of her, and a few magazines next to her. She smiled hesitantly at him. “Hey. You’re later than I thought you’d be.”

Jason crossed the room, sat on the edge of the bed, and kissed her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he drew back slightly, brushing his fingers against her cheek. “I meant to call—”

“It’s okay.” She fisted her hand in his shirt, kissed him again. “You’d be very proud of me. I’ve been resting all day since you dropped me off.”

“Yeah?” Jason looked at the bed, picked at her notebook. “What’s this?”

“Oh, Emily and I were on the phone, talking through a guest list. Preliminary,” she told him, as he picked it up. He grimaced. “ _Preliminary_ ,” she repeated. “You can veto anyone—”

“Are you really inviting Taggert and Baldwin?” Jason made a face. “They won’t come.”

“No, probably not,” Elizabeth said, “but I can still invite them. I promise it’ll be the last time I do anything nice for them. After this—” She playfully slashed her hand through the air. “We’re mortal enemies.”

He couldn’t help but smile—until he realized the entire Quartermaine family was also on the list. “Oh, man. Isn’t this supposed to be my wedding, too?” When Elizabeth just laughed, Jason set the notebook down. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

Elizabeth picked up another magazine, flipped through it. “What’s up?”

“About Sonny. Are you—” Jason hesitated. “Are you mad that I didn’t do more when he pushed you?”

Elizabeth frowned, then focused on him, closing the magazine. “What? Am I mad that you didn’t punch him or something?”

“Yeah,” Jason replied. “He pushed you, Elizabeth. If Bernie hadn’t been right there—”

“I—I don’t know. It all happened so fast.” She bit her lip, pushed her hair behind her ear. “I mean, I was trying to help Carly, and we could hear her screaming—that was more important. And it’s not like I fell or hurt myself. Not that it makes it okay—I just didn’t think about it—Why?”

“Are you worried about Sonny doing worse?” Jason said, not answering her question.

“Are _you_?” Elizabeth asked, softly, her eyes searching his. “Jason—what’s going on?”

“Bobbie came over to yell at Sonny, I guess, and he must have told her—and Carly about what happened to you. He told them I forgave him, probably to make Carly think she should, too. And Bobbie seemed—she seemed _angry_ about it. Carly told her about the engagement.” He rubbed his finger over the ruby stone in her ring. “She seemed disappointed in me for not doing more.”

“And you were wondering if I was, too?” Elizabeth asked.

He sighed. “Maybe. Justus said almost the same thing.”

“Jason.” When she didn’t say anything right away, Jason reluctantly looked up, meeting her eyes. “The thing about Bobbie and Justus— _they_ _’re_ not living with this day today. Not the way you are. If Sonny was just your friend and he’d shoved me, yeah, I’d be annoyed if you were still talking to him or that you hadn’t—I don’t know—broken his jaw.”

Jason grimaced. “I—”

“But he’s not _just_ your friend. He’s also your family. And he’s _Sonny Corinthos_. Sonny Corinthos can’t just fall mentally apart.” Elizabeth sighed. “And you can’t let people know that he’s having problems. I agree with Carly— I think he needs professional help. I guess I also understand it’s really not that simple.”

“I can’t make him do it. I wish I could,” Jason admitted. “But I can’t force him. Not without making a lot of problems that we just—” He shook his head. “We can’t afford the distraction right now. I need things to be stable. I need it to stay quiet. The PCPD is shelving Ric’s case. No more active investigation.”

“Because they think he’s left the jurisdiction and isn’t coming back,” Elizabeth finished. She sighed. “Well, I guess we knew that was coming.”

“I’m not giving up,” Jason told her, remembering Ned’s own promise but not wanting to worry her. “But if Ric stays gone—”

“Then Sonny might get his shit together,” Elizabeth said. “Which makes everything easier.”

“I know it sounds like I’m asking you to let go of ever having a trial,” Jason said slowly. “That’s _not_ what I want—”

“But it’s out of your hands right now, so we have to focus on the things we _can_ control.” Elizabeth forced a smile on her face. “You’re right. Ric being gone—staying gone—it might be better than dragging him back for a trial. At least right now. Sonny needs some space to get himself together, Carly needs it—and God knows, it’d be nice to relax and just think about the baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. He was letting her down, and he knew it. It was worse because she understood it—because she was giving him permission. He _hated_ it. “I just—what Kelly and Monica said about resting, and taking it easy—”

“It would be easier for us to do that if we weren’t constantly worried about what Sonny might do.” Elizabeth nodded. “You don’t have to convince me, Jason. You’re right. I also—I need a break from it all, too. After what we just went through—it would be—” She closed her eyes. “It would nice to just think about the holidays, about getting married, and getting ready for the baby. So—”

She opened her eyes and smiled again—this time, it was more genuine and reached her eyes. “So let’s just put it away. If we need to worry about it, we will, but for now—let’s just get Sonny straightened out, let’s make sure Carly is okay, and you and me—we’ll think about the future.”

Jason just stared at her, not really sure how to process it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I love you, Jason. And I know how hard you’ve worked to make this happen for me, for Carly. I know how much crap you took from Sonny, how much worse it made things— if it had been in your power, I’d get what I needed—we’d get the trial—but it’s not. It’s out of our hands now, so it’s just—it’s up to us how we deal with it. And I—” Elizabeth touched his lips with the tips of her fingers. “I choose not to give Ric Lansing one more minute of my time. He doesn’t deserve it. We’re a family now. And he can’t take that from us.”


	15. Chapter Sixty-Five

_Tell me you don't wanna leave_  
 _'Cause if change is what you need_  
 _You can change right next to me_  
 _When you're high, I'll take the lows_  
 _You can ebb and I can flow_  
 _We'll take it slow_  
 _And grow as we go_  
\- Grow We Go, Ben Platt

* * *

_Friday, December 19, 2003_

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

“Ma, the last place I want to be is Bensonhurst for Christmas,” Dante snapped into his phone, putting up a finger at Lulu to ask for another minute before she took his order.

Lulu pursed her lips, shrugged, then wandered over to check on her other tables. By the time she came back, Dante had hung up the phone and was glaring at the menu. “The usual?” she asked.

“No. I don’t want a burger tonight—” Dante took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.”

“Used to it.” Lulu poured some water into his glass. “Besides, I just found out I passed all my finals—including math—so _nothing_ can ruin my mood.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except now, I need to take algebra, which sucks.”

Dante set the menu aside. “What about chili?”

“You’re feeling adventurous tonight,” Lulu said, scribbling it on the order pad and then turned it over to the kitchen. “Uh, not that I meant to eavesdrop—but your mom wanted you to go to Bensonhurst for Christmas?”

“I told her no,” Dante said. He nodded at her. “What are you doing for Christmas? You, and uh, Dillon have anything planned?”

“No, I’m working basically every day, and he’s working on the script for a contest in his department.” Lulu picked up the coffee pot. “Be right back.”

He reached for a newspaper someone left on the counter, then winced, realizing it was the _Sun_. The cover story was about Sonny—no surprise there. This paper was nothing but tabloid trash—

“You’d think they’d find something else to worry about,” Lulu said as she passed by him with a plate. “I think it’s good that Carly left him.”

Dante scowled but waited for her to come back to the counter. “Why?”

“Well, things were fine between them before she got kidnapped, but my Aunt Bobbie says Sonny has been a giant tool ever since she came home. It’s complicated,” Lulu said. “But basically, no one in my family is all that sad about this.” She picked up the paper. “And you know you can’t trust the Sun anyway. Look at what they did to Elizabeth last summer.”

“You know Sonny Corinthos well?” Dante asked. “Your brother said he was a family friend.”

“More when I was a kid.” Lulu went to get his dinner order and set it down. “Lucky was tight with my Dad, and Dad and Sonny were besties for a while. Mom did not like him, but Lucky thought he was a good guy.” She pursed her lips. “At least until Sonny lost his wife. Dad always said something in Sonny just broke when Lily died. I mean, she wasn’t the love of his life or anything, but she was pregnant. And the bomb was meant for him.”

“I guess that would be hard for anyone,” Dante said quietly.

“Why all the interest in Sonny, anyway? Are you just trying to avoid me asking why you won’t go home with your mother for Christmas?” Lulu asked.

Dante smiled weakly. “Got me,” he lied. “My grandmother apologized for—” He rubbed his face. “And I know Ma says she believes Vinnie’s guilty—that’s the same thing as forgiving me for testifying. You don’t snitch on family. Number one rule.”

Lulu rolled her eyes. “Well, you _should_ be able to snitch if they’re monsters. So your mother is going alone? Sucks for her.” She sighed. “Back to work. I hate the dinner rush.”

Dante watched her go, then looked down at his phone with a sigh. It _would_ suck for his ma to be all by herself in Bensonhurst for the holidays.

Damn it.

**The Cellar: Main Club**

Carly frowned and shook her head. “No, Jen, I think we might want to think more silver and greens. Less gold—” She stepped back from the decorations over the bar and tilted her head. “Yeah, definitely. The gold looks garish in the lighting after a while—”

Her assistant manager shrugged and made a note. “All right, Mrs. C. I’ll go put the note in. We’ll get this place ready for Christmas Eve.”

“Thanks, Jen—” Carly broke off abruptly as Sonny stepped off the bottom stair, passing Jenny as she went upstairs. She cleared her throat, then went behind the bar to get a glass of water from the cooler. “We’re not open yet.”

“No, I know—”

“What do you want, Sonny?”

“I thought we could talk alone—your mother is always right there—” Sonny stopped just before the bar as Carly took a step back. “Carly, what do you think I’m going to do to you?” he demanded. “I told you I was sorry—”

“Is that what Deke said to your mother?” Carly said coolly. She watched his eyes flicker, then shut down. “He said he was sorry, right? And she believed him.”

“ _Don_ _’t_ compare me to my stepfather,” Sonny snapped. “I’m nothing like him—”

“No. Not yet.” Carefully, Carly took a drink of her water, then set it on the bar. “But I think you can see why I can’t trust that. I asked you to get help. To talk to someone. Have you?”

“No—but I don’t have to do that. I’m fine now. I know that I need to relax about Ric, and I’m doing that—”

“You’re doing that because I’m not giving you a choice. I left. I’m not under your control anymore.” Carly stepped out from behind the bar, still keeping at least five feet between them. “So if that’s everything—”

“I want to see the boys for Christmas. They can stay at the penthouse for a few days,” Sonny added, and his scowl deepened when Carly shook her head. “Damn it, Carly, they’re _my_ kids, too—”

“I don’t trust you,” Carly said. “I don’t trust you to be alone with the boys. Morgan’s too young, and I don’t think you’d let Michael leave again without being forced. So, no. You can come to the Brownstone on Christmas Day or the day after. As long as Jason comes with you.”

“I don’t need a damn babysitter—” Even as Sonny took a step forward, Carly stepped back. His face drained of color. “Carly—”

“I told you, Sonny. I don’t trust you. Not anymore. Not without help. Because this is what you do. You keep yourself together for a while, and then something goes wrong—and you can’t handle it. And it happens all over again. It’s getting worse. Last summer, you hallucinated. A week ago, you shoved a pregnant woman and locked me in our bedroom—what’s next, Sonny?”

Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated in a quiet voice. “This isn’t what I wanted, and I tried—I tried over and _over_ again to be what you needed. I gave you everything, and you gave me nothing. You just—you put me through hell. You put me back in that room, and you don’t seem to understand—”

“I do—Carly, I understand, I just—I want us to get past this—”

“Then get help. Real help,” Carly retorted. “Not Jason, not me. And not drinking. Get some real help. And maybe we can talk. Until then—I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Carly—”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops,” Carly said. “It’s the dinner rush. I’m sure there’s at least one cop upstairs. I don’t want to be around you, Sonny. Not by myself. Not until you do what I asked.”

Sonny glared at her another minute, then stalked away. Carly exhaled slowly, then went back to work.

**PCPD: Squad Room**

Taggert scowled and stalked over to Capelli’s desk, slapping down a memo. “What is this?’

Capelli sat up, dropping his feet from the desk to the floor, frowning at the piece of paper. “Uh, it looks like the list of warrants I asked for from the judge. Why do you have it?” he demanded.

“Because they _all_ got kicked back, and as the ranking officer—”

“You’re not _my_ ranking officer—” Capelli shoved himself to his feet, lifting his chin. “You couldn’t hack it here—”

“I still outrank you, Capelli. The judge kicked all three of these back for shitty evidence—” Taggert picked up the memo and slapped it against Capelli’s chest. “What if one of them had gotten through?”

“Uh—” Capelli squinted. “I would have raided the goddamn club, and we’d finally be able to arrest Corinthos and Morgan,” he retorted. “I know they’re your new best friends—”

“You don’t have the evidence for these raids, asshole! You keep pushing for warrants like this, and one of them gets through on this bullshit evidence, Justus Ward will file that harassment suit he’s been threatening for months!”

“Let him—” Capelli pushed Taggert back. “I don’t give a shit—”

“You will when you get the department back in the papers! We’re just digging out from your bullshit last summer—” Taggert jabbed a finger hard in Capelli’s chest. “You keep pushing for these warrants, I’ll tell Anna to reassign you—”

“Fuck you, Taggert! Why don’t you go kiss some more ass and get another fucking shiny promotion you didn’t earn! You didn’t solve the Lansing case either! You’re just pissed because _I_ shook that case loose!”

“Shook it—you got an innocent woman thrown across her living room—”

“What on Earth is going on here?” Anna demanded coldly as she pushed between the two of them. She sent Taggert a hot look before glaring at Capelli. “Why are two of my ranking officers screaming at each other like kindergarteners?”

“Ask this dick!” Capelli retorted. “He’s the one jumping down my throat—”

“He’s pushing for warrants that he can’t prove—the department is going to get sued—”

Anna scowled at Taggert, and he closed his mouth. She looked at Capelli. “Explain,” she said, her tone clipped.

“He’s just pissed because I might finally get Corinthos and Morgan—”

“Tell me about the warrants, Detective,” Anna cut in, her voice slicing through Capelli’s bluster like a knife. “Did you apply for warrants without solid evidence?”

“It would have been solid enough for some judges,” Capelli muttered. “We got a few informants—”

“For _some_ judges? That’s not good enough, Detective. When we turn over cases to the DA’s office, they need to be rock solid. Unimpeachable. I don’t want anything a defense attorney can rip to shreds in preliminary hearings.” She narrowed her eyes. “How many warrants have you wasted the court’s time with?”

Capelli scowled. “This time it was three—”

“And last month it was six—” Taggert snarled.

“Nine warrants in less than two months that have been rejected?’ Anna pursed her lips. “You’ll be putting your warrants through me—’”

“Fuck this—”

“If you don’t like that, then perhaps I should simply write you up for negligence and recommend you for retraining,” she said coolly. “Pick your poison, Detective. Either way, I’ll expect your next warrant request on my desk. Otherwise, it’s a thirty-day rip—and you can’t afford another one before next July.”

Capelli scowled, but Anna’s arched brow dared him to say anything else. He growled, picked up a file, tossed Taggert a nasty look, then stalked away.

“Thanks—”

“And you,” Anna said, turning to face him. “My office. Now.”

Taggert grimaced but followed the commissioner down the hall and into her office. “Look, I’m sorry—”

“If you have a problem with a fellow officer’s work, then you bring that concern to _me_. I won’t have any more problems slipping through the cracks, Lieutenant.” Anna stood behind her desk, folded her arms. “I am aware that the Organized Crime Unit is quite badly run. To be honest, it wasn’t much better when you were in charge.”

Taggert winced. “It’s complicated—”

“Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan are relatively sophisticated criminals who rarely take a wrong step. I understand that must have been frustrating. But you—and Capelli—both made the same mistake. You focused on the kingpins. You should have chipped away at the organization from the edges.” She took a seat. “It’s how we took down Frank Smith, Victor Jerome, and nearly every other criminal when I worked here—”

“With all due respect, Anna, Corinthos and Morgan aren’t like anyone you knew before—”

“You’d be surprised.” She picked up a pen, tapped it against the blotter. “Was it _really_ the department you were protecting out there?”

“Of course,” Taggert replied, frowning. “We can’t afford any more bad press—”

“I am aware that the department has had a close working relationship with Elizabeth Webber over the last six months. Which meant a certain amount of contact with Jason Morgan. Are you sure _that_ _’s_ not clouding your judgment?”

“Are you suggesting I’m not a good cop?”

“No. I’m suggesting that your affection for Elizabeth Webber might be a hindrance. I looked over the Esposito case. You waited to interview her last, but it was _her_ interview that allowed you to determine she was the first victim. You could have known that two months earlier—”

“With all due respect, Anna, if I had asked Elizabeth to give me a statement about her rape in July, Justus Ward would have shut us down. And I don’t think she was capable of it. You weren’t here then.” Taggert folded his arms. “She was barely out of the hospital before Brooke Lynn Ashton swallowed a fistful of pills, and from what I heard—still having panic attacks of her own. She had to go into therapy. She could not emotionally have given us the statement we got in September if I’d gone to her in July.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so. There was nothing in the profile that indicated the rapist was targeting specific women — he had a physical and geographical profile — and other than Brooke and Elizabeth, no prior relationship or knowledge. I had no reason to think she was anything other than a random victim. And until her kit came back, I didn’t think I had enough to move forward with her case legally.”

Anna leaned back in her chair, tipping her head to the side. “Very good.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve read some of the newspaper coverage — the suggestions that Elizabeth had special treatment from the department to avoid a lawsuit for Capelli’s actions—” Anna picked up her reading glasses, slid them on. “And Capelli himself mentioned them when he recently petitioned to have the suspension expunged, claiming that his actions had been sanctioned by the commissioner and resulted in investigative leads—”

“Bullshit—the only thing it did was get Ric Lansing arrested so that Elizabeth could find the panic room. The PCPD had zero to do with finding Carly Corinthos in July. And we could have lost our star witness—” Taggert growled as the rest of her statement sank in. “He’s trying to have the suspension lifted?”

“Trying. He won’t succeed.” Anna removed her reading glasses. “I might not have waited until the results came back. But you’re right, I wasn’t here. And if I had been—if I had felt responsible for the physical condition she was in—I might have made the same choices. Which is precisely what I’ll say to the board if it comes to that.”

Taggert exhaled slowly. “I made mistakes with her original case, Anna. Not like Mac did—but I made mistakes. And then I didn’t do more when Carly went missing. Elizabeth nearly died. I couldn’t see dragging any of this up for her if we couldn’t go forward. Without a DNA match, no DA would have ever taken that case.”

“Capelli is not a great cop,” Anna said after a moment. “He’s passable, at best. He suffers from tunnel vision. Now, either he’ll improve or he won’t. But that’s for me to deal with. Not you. No more fights in my squad room. Is that understood?”

“Understood.” Taggert went to the doorway, then looked back. “I left Organized Crime because I wasn’t much better than Capelli. The Lansing case — it made me realize I’d forgotten why I was doing this job. So, yeah, I got an affection for Elizabeth. And for Carly. They gave me back my perspective. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to keep doing this.”

**Kelly** **’s: Parking Lot**

“We could just get take out,” Jason reminded Elizabeth as she stepped out of the SUV. He held her hand to help her navigate over the small spots of ice. “You could stay in the car—”

“I’ve barely been out of the house since our appointment,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve done _everything_ Kelly and Monica told me to do. I’m resting. I haven’t needed my oxygen tank—”

He turned to her, and she could still see his brow raised in the dim lighting of the courtyard. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Okay, so yeah, I’m still having trouble taking a full breath,” she muttered. “But it’s probably just a side effect—and I’m _supposed_ to be tired all the time—”

“I know—”

“And some exercise and fresh air is good for me—”

“All right, all right—” Jason shook his head but smiled at her. “I just—I just want you to be okay.” He smoothed a thumb over her cheekbone. “But you’re right, and we’re already here—”

Elizabeth beamed at him. “Great. Because I want some chili—and a _huge_ plate of fries—” She turned away from him and started towards the door, stopping with some surprise as a familiar figure stepped out of the diner. “Oh—”

“Robin.” Jason blinked, then cleared his throat. “I—I didn’t know you were in town.”

Robin smiled briefly at them, letting the door swing closed behind her. She raised her brown paper bag. “Had to get some chili. I’m here for Christmas. Mom’s based out of PC now, so—” She shrugged. “You look good, Jase. It’s been a while.”

“Uh, yeah—” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. It had been almost four years since he’d told Robin he never wanted to see her face again, and she’d left town. “You—you remember Elizabeth?”

“I do. Hey. Mac said you guys were together now.” Robin smiled at her with genuine warmth. “We didn’t know each other well when I lived here, but I remember you.”

“How’s Paris?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you still working there?”

“For another year. I’m almost done my residency—finally.” Robin hesitated. “Do you mind, Elizabeth, if Jason and I—could we have a minute?”

“Oh. Sure.” Elizabeth smiled at him.

“Wait—”

“I’m fine,” she stressed to him. She kissed his cheek. “There’s probably like ten people inside that I know, and I’ll go ahead and order dinner. I’ll get your usual. It was nice seeing you, Robin.”

Jason frowned as she walked past Robin, the bell jangling over the door. He looked at Robin, squinting. “What did you need?”

“I just—I don’t want it to be awkward like this.” Robin took a step towards him. “I mean, we’ve both moved on, right? Mac told me you and Elizabeth are having a baby. I’m—” Her dark eyes searched his. “I’m excited for you. Really. I know how much you loved Michael. And Elizabeth—she seems nice. You look happy.”

“I am.” Jason exhaled, then nodded. “You look happy, too. And I’m glad you like Paris. You always did.”

“Alan asked me about coming to GH after my residency,” Robin told him. “And I’d like to come home. I missed so much time with my mother—I don’t want to miss more. So—we’re good?” she asked.

“We’re good. You—we both made mistakes back then,” Jason continued. “Most of them were mine.”

“I could have handled things better,” Robin admitted. “But I was young. And stupid. I’m glad it worked out, Jase. For both of us. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

He watched her leave the courtyard, heading towards the parking lot, then went into the diner where Elizabeth had taken a back table, smiling and talking to Dillon at the counter.

He hung his jacket up, then joined her at the table. “Hey. Did you order?”

“I did.” Elizabeth picked up her water, focused on him. “How’s Robin?”

“Good. She just—” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Wanted to clear the air. She’s probably going to work at GH after her residency, and we left things on a…” He hesitated. “I told her I never wanted to see her face again.”

Elizabeth raised her brows, then nodded. “Well, yeah, I guess I get that—she did blow things up with Michael on her way out of town. Emily was horrified by it, but I was incredibly entertained.” She smirked as Jason scowled. “She did what a lot of us dream about doing — blowing up the life of someone who hurt us, especially an ex-boyfriend.” She shrugged. “We were both on Robin’s side.”

Jason frowned, surprised by that. “My sister and you—” He couldn’t quite process it.

“Jason.” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “You asked Robin to let the entire town think you cheated on her with Carly, and then you let Carly move in with you guys when she got home. You broke up with Robin like five minutes later. I mean, look, my opinion of Carly is different now, but Emily hated Carly. Still probably does. And…” she shrugged. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing Robin did.”

Jason sat back, a bit taken aback by that. “I—”

“What, are you going to tell me you were fair to Robin that whole year?” Elizabeth arched a slim brow. “That you don’t understand why she popped off that way? Like I said, she lived every woman’s dream. You dumped her, and she gave you the finger on her way out.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It wasn’t—” He grimaced. “I made mistakes,” he muttered.

“I know losing Michael hurt. Especially the way you lost him,” Elizabeth added, softening her voice. “And I got to see that side of you later. I’m just saying—when it first happened, I definitely didn’t think that well of you. I know you better now.”

“I know I should regret it—but I’m not sorry for that year with Michael,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I’m just sorry I hurt Robin. I’d change that if I could.”

“Well, then I’m glad she’s thinking of moving back. The hospital will be lucky to have her, and I know you guys were close once.” Elizabeth pointed a straw at him with a mocking look. “But you’re not moving in any former girlfriends. I’m not _that_ nice.”

Jason laughed. “No, that’s definitely a mistake I don’t plan on making again.” He took her hand in his, sliding his thumb over her engagement ring. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”

“It’s nice to have a reason to. I’m excited for Christmas,” she told him. “And for the wedding, and the baby—it just feels like things are finally coming together.”

**Kelsey** **’s Apartment: Kitchen**

Kelsey took a deep breath and pressed her mother’s number on her speed dial. “All right, let’s see if she wants to come for Christmas,” she said to Lucky at the sink. She put the call on speakerphone.

“Mom! Hey!”

“Hey, baby.” Angela Joyce’s was warm and friendly. “What’s the occasion? You don’t usually call until the weekend.”

“Well, you’re on speaker,” Kelsey said. “Lucky’s here.”

“Hey, Ms. Joyce.”

“Why am I on—oh, are you _engaged_?” Angela demanded. “Are you getting married?”

Lucky’s face drained of color so fast that Kelsey snickered. “No, Mom. We’re not getting married. We’ve only been dating for five months. We were talking about Christmas.”

“Oh, well, Lucky is welcome to join us if you want—”

“Well, actually, Mom, Lucky and I were thinking maybe you’d come to Port Charles. You know, since his mom just got home—”

“Kelsey. Take me off speakerphone.”

Surprised by her mother’s sharp tone, Kelsey flashed Lucky a confused look, then obeyed. “Mom?”

“I came to Port Charles after you were hurt. Wasn’t that enough?”

“No, I—I know. I just—I thought since you came then, and, well—Lucky’s mom was gone for almost a year. He wants to spend Christmas with her—”

“Then let him do that, and you come here. Like every other year. I’ve told you how I feel about Port Charles.” Angela sighed. “I’m sorry, baby, I know I got your hopes up, and I don’t want to make trouble for you. I like Lucky—”

“I know you do, Mom.” Kelsey bit her lip. “It was just an idea. I’ll come to Buffalo like always, and Lucky can be with his family.”

“You—you could stay if you wanted—”

“Not this year. Maybe next year—we’ll trade off or something. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.” She talked to her mother for a couple more minutes, then closed her cell phone. Stared at it. “Well, that was a disaster.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d be so upset.” Lucky kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. You’ll spend this year with your mom, and then next year—if we need to talk about it, we’ll figure it out then.”

“I just—it’s just me and her, Lucky. And I feel bad now because she’s upset—”

“Kelse—” He kissed her, cutting off her protest. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Moms are important. We’ll do something with my family another time.”

“I love you,” she said. She kissed him again. “I need to finish some paperwork for court tomorrow—but—thank you for understanding.”

“I guess it’s a little surprising your mom is this upset over a car accident a decade ago,” Lucky said, “but I get it. My dad always falls apart when my mom isn’t around. She must have loved him.”

“Yeah, she did. And he was a great guy. I wish you’d known him.” Kelsey smiled wistfully. “It’s nice that your parents did. I can’t wait to hear more stories. I bet he _really_ hated your dad back in the day.”

“Most people did,” Lucky said with a grin. “Go finish your paperwork—I’ll deal with the dishes.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

“I really wish I didn’t have to close,” Lulu said with a sigh as she stifled a yawn. “No one’s ever here after ten, and still, I gotta stay until eleven. It’s a crime.”

“At least you’re being paid.” Dillon rolled his shoulder, stretched out his arm. “I’m probably gonna rent off-campus next semester. Getting tired of sneaking you past Alice.”

“Sneaking me—” Lulu rolled her eyes, then picked up another set of utensils to wrap in a napkin for the morning shift. “You’re an adult, Dillon. Why can’t we just got upstairs like normal people?”

“Uh, considering the fact that you won’t even let me cross the threshold in your house, that’s hypocritical.” Dillon wrinkled his nose. “I’ve barely met your mother.”

“Well, my father definitely would throw you out the window if he caught you, so I guess it’s about perspective.” Lulu picked up a coffee pot and wandered over to check on her last, lingering customer.

Dillon saw her cell phone light up with a text message, and his eye caught the return name — Dante. He frowned. Since when was Lulu close enough to her brother’s partner that she had his contact info saved?

He reached for her phone, flipped it open. “Took your advice,” he read as Lulu returned to the counter. “You were right. Again.”

Lulu snatched her phone back. “Hey, what’s your damage?”

“What’s my— _you_ _’re_ the one getting texts from other guys.” Dante nodded towards the phone. “What’s he talking about? What were you right about? And why _again_?”

“Nothing—I mean, nothing important—” Lulu’s cheeks flushed, and Dillon scowled. “Nothing,” she repeated. “He just—he was here earlier for dinner, and on the phone with his mother. She wanted him to go to New York for Christmas. I didn’t even really say anything to him—”

“And what about ‘again’?”

“What does it matter? We talked about his testimony at the hearing,” Lulu snapped. “He’s a friend. God, Dillon. I barely know him—”

“You know him enough to have his contact info in your phone. I’ve seen him looking at you—”

“Well, I’m hot,” Lulu retorted. “ _Everyone_ looks at me. I have a great ass. You’ve told me—”

“That is—” Dillon paused. “That is _not_ the point,” he hissed. “I’ve seen _you_ look at _him_ —”

“Oh, for the love of—he’s a friend,” she repeated. “Do you see me throwing tantrums when you talk to Georgie? You actually dated her. This is just someone I talk to here at Kelly’s.”

Dillon got to his feet, then shoved his laptop into his bag. “You can’t even admit it—”

“Admit what?”

“I’m going home. I’m not in the mood to hang out,” he said. “Good night.”

“Good night to you,” Lulu called after him. “Asshole.” She scowled when her last customer frowned at her. “What’s your problem? Go home and stop drinking coffee!”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Elizabeth handed her coat to Jason and frowned at the pile of mail on the desk. “Do you feel like the mail is getting here later and later?” she asked, picking up the stack and sorting through it.

“I think Wally’s just not sending it up until later.” Jason hung their jackets in the closet. “It’s usually junk—” He frowned when he saw her pause on a red envelope. “What is it?”

“A Christmas card. It’s postmarked from South Africa.” Elizabeth sighed, spreading her fingers over the address label. “That’s where my parents are now. They mailed this to my grandmother’s house.”

“I thought the house was sold—” Jason sighed, then nodded. “Because they didn’t have a forwarding address.”

“I wrote them a few times—from the condo and when I moved in here.” She set the other pieces of mail down on the desk and walked over the sofa, the card in her hands. “We haven’t seen each other since they left for Bosnia back when I was in high school. They were in Sarajevo, then London for a while. I think there was a stint in Belarus, but Sarah told me they’d been in South Africa for the last year.”

“At least they sent a card,” Jason said. He sat next to her. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

“Yeah, but you’re right. They sent something.” She opened the seal on the envelope. “I wrote them when I found out about the baby,” she told him. “Maybe—”

But it was a generic Happy Holidays card. Inside, someone had written the year in the top right corner, then Elizabeth’s name over a bland ‘Have a wonderful holiday season!’ message. They’d signed it From Mom and Dad.

He took the card from her, scowling at it, turning it over. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. Same thing as last year.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know why I keep getting my hopes up. Doesn’t matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “It _doesn_ _’t_ ,” she told Jason. “Last year—God, last year, it decimated me. I was already feeling like crap. I was alone, and then this stupid card came—and it just felt like proof that no one loved me. That I didn’t matter.”

Elizabeth reached out, touched his arm. “That’s not a criticism on you, Jason. That’s just a description of what I was dealing with. This year? It sucks. But it’s their loss. Because that’s it. Ignoring my child—again—it’s the last time I’m going to let them disappoint me.”

She snuggled into his embrace, and he slid his hands through her hair, combing his fingers through the strands the way he always did. “I have you. I have Emily, Nikolas, Bobbie. I have people who love me. And we’re getting married. We’re making a family of our own. I don’t need them to love me anymore. I have all the love that matters.” She leaned up, kissed him.

Jason kissed her back, tracing her jaw with his thumb. “Well, then, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Why don’t we go upstairs?” she murmured, sliding her hand down his chest and grinning. “And I’ll show you how much I love you?”


	16. Chapter Sixty-Six

_And you asked me what I want this year_  
 _And I try to make this kind and clear_  
 _Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days_  
 _'Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings_  
 _And designer love and empty things_  
 _Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days_  
\- Better Days, Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

_Thursday, December 25, 2003_

**Scorpio Home: Living Room**

Anna pushed the sleeves of her sweater to her elbows, then placed the last piece of tape on a gift. She glared at Mac. “How did you _not_ want to throw Capelli out the window repeatedly?”

“Eternal mystery,” Mac said with half a smile. He perched on the arm of the sofa, watching her wrap. “How is it that we’re leaving to see the girls in ten minutes, and you’re _still_ wrapping? You used to be more organized than this.”

“Well, I used to have more time,” Anna muttered. She sat back. “I had to wrap and ship things home to Pine Valley as well,” she reminded him. “I may have returned to Port Charles, but I haven’t forgotten my friends and family there.”

“I didn’t think you would have. You talked to David lately?”

“No.” Anna hesitated. “And I don’t expect to. Clean break. Best for us all.” She got to her feet and flashed Mac a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I ought not to complain about Capelli or the job—”

“Anna, my brother might be dead, but you and I will always be family,” Mac told her. “If we pretend that you’re not running the PCPD now and that I’m not currently an unemployed pariah, then what’s the point? I screwed up. Repeatedly. Ned brought you in to clean things up.”

“I just—” Anna lifted her hands. “I understand. You didn’t have a lot to work with. I think, without Floyd, you would have done quite well—”

“Optics. Ned ran on a clean slate promise.” Mac took a deep breath. “Floyd had to go, and after that press conference, so did I. Maybe it’s easier for people to blame it on Floyd. It’s how I’ve slept at night, but at the end of the day, Anna—” He met her dark eyes. “What would you have done?”

“With the Webber case five years ago?”

“Sure. We can go with that.”

“I would have…” Anna hesitated. “A rape kit in evidence, a suspect that confessed to the victim? I would have put a separate detective on her case, aside from the kidnapping and hostage the day Baker was arrested and sent the kit to the lab.”

“And Baker would have been eliminated as a suspect,” Mac said with a nod. “Elizabeth would never have continued to believe he was guilty, no outcry at the trial, and he wouldn’t have been paroled this early on the extortion and kidnapping charges.” He exhaled slowly. “He would have gone to prison for a lot longer. We wouldn’t have made a deal.”

“And Elizabeth Webber might have been haunted for five more years about her attack,” Anna said softly. “Mac, testing that kit — it would have cleared Baker, but you would not have found Vinnie Esposito’s DNA. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the system.”

“No, I know that. And maybe I gave her closure. But it wasn’t real. It wasn’t the truth. And this summer, when Floyd refused to put out the statement, wouldn’t push for the extra funding—” Mac looked away. “I should have done more.”

“That’s the beauty of hindsight, my darling.” Anna kissed his cheek. “We can see all the ways we should have turned left instead of right. But, in the moment, you did your best. The mistake came later. You never should have falsified that lab report.”

“I know. It—I think I could live with the rest of it, except that for that report. And putting that case with solved cases. Elizabeth deserved better than that from me. From the department.”

“I’d like you to also remember that it was under _your_ leadership that Vinnie was caught,” Anna said. She went over to the closet to pull out her jacket. “Your officers. Your Major Crimes squad. If the mistakes belong to you, Mac, then so do the victories. He’s in jail, and he won’t be seeing the light of day for many, many years.”

“Thanks, Anna.” Mac smiled at her. “You ready to go?”

“I am. Let’s go have Christmas with our family.”

**Brownstone: Living Room**

Christmas had exploded in the small room as a six-year-old boy plowed through the mountain of gifts under the tree like a freight train. Until he opened the gift he’d received from Lucas and Felix.

Michael stared at the controller box in his hands, then blinked at Lucas. “I already have one,” he said slowly. He looked at Jason and Elizabeth sitting on the sofa. “Uncle Jason lets me play at his house.”

“This is for our apartment,” Felix told him with a grin. “You’re always asking Lucas to play games with us, but I don’t play, and he only has the one controller.”

“I—” Michael’s smile broadened. “I can keep it at your apartment? I can come over and play games?”

“Any time I’m home, runt,” Lucas said, ruffling Michael’s hair. “But, uh, I think your other uncle has something for you that goes with it.”

Michael twisted on the floor and crawled over towards Jason with a huge grin. “Yeah? What do I get?”

Jason reached for a large box under the tree and slid it towards his nephew, before sitting next to Elizabeth again, taking her hand in his. Michael started ripping into the paper. “You can still keep your system at my place,” Jason told him as Michael’s eyes grew large at the brand-new Playstation 2. “But you should have one here. Where you live.” He met Carly’s sad eyes as they both took in that statement.

Michael lived here, at the Brownstone, and Carly didn’t think that was going to change.

“Oh, my God—Grammy, Grammy—” Michael was bouncing up and hugging her. “Grammy! I can play here in the living room! And you can watch me!”

“How fun for me,” Bobbie remarked with a grin before glaring at Jason. Elizabeth snickered. “Just you wait until your kid is old enough for me to spoil.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I can’t wait. This is going to be so much fun. And next year, Morgan will be old enough to open gifts.” She bounced slightly, her grin as big as Michael’s.

“We’re going to need a bigger living room,” Lucas told Carly, who laughed.

Lucas and Felix helped Michael hook up his brand new game system while Carly and Elizabeth bickered about who would get to put Morgan down for his nap.

Jason followed Bobbie to the kitchen, carrying a black trash bag full of wrapping paper. “Thanks,” she said. “Jason—” Bobbie put a hand on his arm before he went back to the living room. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

Jason frowned at her, shaking his head slightly. “What other day? Bobbie—”

“When I went to see Sonny — I shouldn’t have taken the elevator key,” Bobbie admitted. She folded her arms, leaning against the fridge. “But I needed to—I needed to see him away from Carly. And you showed up, and I was _so_ angry—I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your best.”

“You weren’t wrong.” Jason glanced through the double doors that connected the living room to the kitchen and dining area. “Sonny did think I’d forgiven him. I haven’t. And I told Elizabeth that she didn’t have to either.”

“Oh.” Bobbie exhaled. “I thought—”

“It happened so fast—I didn’t even—” Jason stopped, tried to find the right words. “I didn’t have more than a second to process that he’d pushed her before I heard Carly screaming—” He met Bobbie’s eyes. “It was just like that day, Bobbie. In that SUV, trying to get back to the house, hearing something wrong with Elizabeth—she pressed that button—and I could hear Carly screaming—”

Bobbie closed her eyes. “God. That day.”

“Everything else—it just disappeared. And Elizabeth said it was like that for her. She was running—Bobbie, she got there before me, and she’s pregnant—”

Bobbie pressed a fist against her heart. “What are we going to do?” she murmured. “He won’t get help.”

“No.”

“We can’t go on like this. Carly and the boys—they deserve so much more than this. You—you’re starting a family with Elizabeth.” She cleared her throat. “What are we going to do?” she repeated.

“Try to get through it,” Jason said after a moment. “What I always do. He’ll hit bottom, we’ll dig our way out, and maybe things will be quiet for a while.”

“And that’s enough for you?” Bobbie demanded. “Jason—”

“It’s not. But tell me what else am I supposed to do if he refuses to get help?” Jason asked. He raised his brows. “Carly’s out of the situation. I gave Elizabeth’s guards instructions not to let Sonny in when she’s alone. We could move, I guess, but I don’t know if that would make it worse.” He shook his head. “Bobbie, I know you want me to do more, but I don’t know what else can be done.”

“What I want—” Bobbie focused on the tile on the floor, closed her eyes, then took a deep breath before meeting his gaze again. “What I want is for you to fix it,” she admitted. “And that’s not a fair thing to ask of you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jason put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s just go back and enjoy Christmas, okay?”

“Okay.” Bobbie smiled at him. “I heard a rumor you’re having dinner with the Quartermaines.” When Jason winced, she laughed. “You really are a pushover, Jase. Elizabeth has you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Yeah.” Jason leaned against the door frame separating the two rooms, watched Elizabeth marvel over Michael’s new game. “Carly said you’re going to Luke’s.”

“Yeah, Lulu is supposed to be making dessert,” Bobbie said dryly, “so if you get a breaking news bulletin about Royal Street burning down, you’ll know why.”

_Bensonhurst, New York_

**Falconieri Home: Front Porch**

These were the streets of Dante’s childhood, the blocks he’d ruled over as a kid, leading a gang of other kids who thought they were the kings of the world.

He’d always half expected to come home one day, buy a house a few doors down from his grandparents, marry a nice girl from the neighborhood, and raise a couple of kids.

That was probably never going to happen now.

Uncle Frankie had made sure everyone was on their best behavior—other than the dark looks that his aunt gave Dante and his mother when they arrived the night before — but there was a tension in the air. People were polite to his mother, but no one really spoke to him.

He’d come to keep his mother company, but maybe they would have been nicer and warmer to Olivia if Dante had remained behind in Port Charles. Lulu had been wrong — Dante only made things worse by being here.

The door creaked open behind him, and Dante turned, closing his eyes briefly as Marta Falconieri stepped out, her face nearly invisible in the shadows. He said nothing to her — the last time he’d called her grandmother, she’d slapped him.

The slap that had been caught on camera by a local news station and broadcast everywhere. If Dante ever forgot what it had felt like to be hated by a woman he’d worshipped all his life—well, he had a video to bring it back.

“I was surprised you came.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Dante said, slowly. He stepped to the side as Marta came to stand by him. “But I didn’t want Ma to come alone.”

“Very loyal of you.” She turned, one side of her face lit by the moonlight. “If only you could have shown that loyalty to _all_ of your family.”

Dante exhaled slowly. “He didn’t deserve any loyalty,” he said in a quiet voice. “Ma said you believed in his guilt. That you accepted it—”

“You don’t turn on family, Dante. That is the number one rule—that girl— _she_ was enough—you humiliated me—”

“I—” Dante scowled. “ _I_ humiliated _you_? Vinnie raped and beat who knows how many women—including Brooke Lynn! You went to her funeral, Grandma. How can you tell me I’m the humiliation—”

“He was already going to jail—” Marta curled her hand in a fist at her side. “You turned on family,” she repeated flatly. “And you made sure the whole world knew what a monster he was. How am I supposed to hold my head up? We raised that animal—and you made sure that _everyone_ knew—”

“I made sure everyone knew what he was so no one could forget. So that no one could _ever_ let him get away with it,” Dante snapped. “He is the reason Brooke is dead—”

“Pills are the reason that girl is dead. She was weak and took her own—” Marta pressed her lips closed. “You will not cast more sins at his feet. He has more than enough to repent for—”

She’d never get it — never accept it—so Dante shook his head, started to walk back towards the front door—

Then stopped. He turned to look at her. “Were you telling the truth?” he asked her. “That day. When you told me who my father was?”

Marta stared at him, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of shame in her eyes. “I should have said nothing. I promised your mother I would never—”

“So, you were.” Dante nodded, then cleared his throat. “Got it.”

“Dante—”

When he paused, his hand on the door handle, Marta lifted her chin. “You won’t be welcome in my house again. Your mother can come, but not you.”

“What about Vinnie?” Dante demanded. “What if he gets out on parole in twenty-five years— you gonna welcome him back into the fold? You never liked him. He never took care of you. That was me—” He slapped a hand against his chest. “Me! And my mother! We took care of you after Poppy died. Not him. I did the job. I protected the public—”

“Your first loyalty is to family. And your grandfather would be ashamed of you—”

“No, I think he’d be ashamed of _you_. Don’t worry, _Grandma_. I won’t darken your door again. Merry Christmas.”

**Quartermaine Estate: Terrace**

The night was brutally cold, but Jason didn’t notice. For the second time in a month, he’d found himself at a Quartermaine gathering, and he needed a minute to himself. He’d left Elizabeth with Monica, knowing his mother would keep a close eye on her. She seemed to be doing all right, but she was tired so much these days —

“You know, I never asked—”

Jason turned as Ned stepped out onto the terrace, blowing warm air into his cupped hands. “I never asked,” Ned continued, “if you honestly can’t feel cold or if it just doesn’t affect you.”

“I can still freeze to death,” Jason muttered, his mind drifting to the time that he nearly had. That morning in the snow, four years earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “I just don’t _feel_ it.”

Ned nodded, joined him at the railing. “A year ago, I wouldn’t have pictured you here,” he said. “I was surprised when Monica said you were coming.” He tipped his head to the side. “Is it just for Elizabeth? Because she gets along with the family?”

It’d be easy to say yes — Bobbie wasn’t the only one who assumed Jason’s presence at the Quartermaines during the holidays was because of Elizabeth. “Robin got along with the family. I still never came over then.”

“True. So maybe you just don’t think we’re the evil villains anymore.” Ned shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry that we still can’t find Ric, Jason.”

Jason grimaced, then shook his head. “I’m not surprised,” he admitted. “He’s been gone more than a month, and we always figured he’d left the country.”

“I should have seen the signs a long time ago,” Ned murmured. “I was so angry after Kristina died, after Alexis nearly lost her—our—daughter,” he said, “because of Alcazar—it just felt like we were never going to dig out of it. I blamed Sonny. I wanted him to pay for what happened.”

“Ned—”

“I gave Ric money. Support. Helped him get started in town. Not a lot of people know that, but if anyone had—I never would have won the election.” He looked at Jason. “I’m sorry. For my part in creating this mess. For letting him anywhere near Elizabeth. I was so angry—I stopped thinking about her as a person. A person I knew. Who had worked for me—Chloe loved her.” He sighed. “She would have been so angry with me for letting Elizabeth near him.”

“I didn’t do a much better job,” Jason admitted. He flicked his eyes to Ned, before looking back through the double doors where Elizabeth was sitting on the sofa, smiling at Emily and Monica. “I was angry with her for not believing me.” When she refused to believe him about Ric pretending to sleep when Carly when she was drugged— “I let it go.”

And that would haunt him. If he’d tried harder — if he’d been less angry — if he’d been more honest that yeah, he’d been so jealous of her being with anyone else he could hardly see straight — would she have admitted the same?

“Do you think Ric will ever come back?”

Jason hesitated. “I want to say no,” he admitted. “But I also know that he’s got unfinished business here. I think he’s gone for now. If he’d meant to act right away, he would have. He might not come back for months, but he’s out there. And as long as he’s alive, he’s a threat to Elizabeth. He was—” he shook his head. “Obsessed with her. Obsessed with the child she lost.”

“Scott and Taggert told me that they were worried about what would happen if Ric found out she was pregnant again.” Ned rubbed his arms. “He got close enough to hurt her because of me, Jase. I share the blame. I want to make it right. So—whatever I can do.”

“Thanks.” Jason sighed. “But for now, he’s gone. And I don’t want her to think about him anymore. After next week, Esposito will be gone, too.”

“Does Elizabeth plan to make an impact statement at the sentencing?” Ned asked. “Lois is. And I think she said one of the other survivors is going to, but she hadn’t heard about Elizabeth.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “She testified, and that was enough.”

“More than enough. She fought hard for those girls. For my daughter. I hope she’s done fighting.”

“Me, too,” Jason murmured.

**Spencer House: Kitchen**

“You know, I should hire people to do this,” Nikolas muttered as he took the dish Lucky handed him and dried it. “Or buy Mom a dishwasher—”

“Oh, calm down, Your Royal Highness,” Lucky told him. “A little manual labor never hurt anyone.” He looked over at Lulu, who was scowling at the oven. “How’s dessert coming?”

“It’s fine,” Lulu retorted.

Nikolas sniffed. “Uh, does that _smell_ fine?”

Lulu pulled open the oven door—and smoke poured out. “Son of a—”

Then a loud, obnoxious beeping sounded throughout the first floor of the Spencer house. Luke shoved open the kitchen door and raised his brows at his youngest child. “So, when you said let _you_ do the pie this year—”

“Oh, do not start with me,” Lulu said, coughing as she waved her hand in front of her mouth. “Go turn that stupid thing off—”

Luke shrugged, turned back towards the living room. “Barbara Jean! You won the pool—”

Lucky snickered as his father’s voice faded with the closing of the door, and Nikolas went over to help his sister with her ruined pie. He switched off the oven. “What did you _do_?” Nikolas asked as he put on the oven mitts and took out the tray, coughing. He set the tray on the stove, and the trio stared at the nearly black crust.

“I don’t understand,” Lulu said, putting a hand on her hips. “I followed the directions. You know some people have a green thumb with plants? Can you have the opposite for cooking?”

“Well—” Lucky poked the top of the pie, and it crumbled into ashes. “Obviously.”

“Frick. Okay. Okay. I can fix this—”

“Really? Are you into witchcraft now?”

Lulu smacked Nikolas in the arm. “ _Shut up_! No! I can go to Kelly’s. We’ve always got some pies in the fridge for later. I’ll go get that, and, uh, someone else can heat it up.” She jabbed a finger in Lucky’s direction. “Don’t let Aunt Bobbie or anyone leave. I’ll just be a few minutes—ten—at most—”

Their sister dashed out the back door, and Nikolas stared after her. “Uh, does she know she doesn’t have a jacket—”

“Or keys—”

Then Lulu ran back in, ran past them, into the living room, then repeated the route with a jacket and a purse—slamming the back door behind her, the smell of smoke lingering behind her.

“You know, it’s never boring with her.”

**Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room**

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as she looked at Jason out on the terrace, talking with Ned. “He’s still out there?”

“Ned’s gonna turn into an icicle,” Lois quipped as she sat next to Elizabeth and reached for the photographs Emily had set on the table. “I know Jason can’t feel the cold—”

“But he can still freeze,” Elizabeth muttered. “So, I’ve been torn between these three,” she told Monica and Lois. “And Emily has been _zero_ help.”

“I like them all,” Emily said with a shrug. “And thank God you decided to stop being a brat about the price. Jason told her to spend whatever she wanted to—” she started to tell Lois.

“But he did not mean _thousands_ of dollars on _one_ dress,” Elizabeth retorted. “It’s a dress—”

“It’s _the_ dress,” Emily pushed. “You plan on marrying anyone else?”

“Emily—” Monica glared at her daughter before looking at Elizabeth. “She’s right, though, that Jason just wants you to be happy—”

“It’s not—” Elizabeth paused, stared down at the photo, sliding her fingers over one of the dresses. “It’s not the money. I know Jason doesn’t care. And I have my trust fund if I was really worried about it. It’s just…it’s stupid,” she muttered.

“But if Audrey were here,” Monica said softly, “she’d want to pay. Because the bride’s family pays for the wedding.”

“I know that’s just a tradition, and it’s not always true—I know that, but I guess—part of me wanted to buy something Gram could have afforded. Because she was so excited when Lucky and I were going to get married—but really supportive when I canceled the wedding. We donated the dress—”

“Let’s see what you have so far,” Lois suggested when Elizabeth stopped talking. “What style were you thinking?”

“All of them,” Emily said dryly. “Short, long, sleeveless, long sleeves—”

“This is pretty,” Monica said, pointing at a dress with short sleeves, ending at the knees. “Have you been to try any of them on?”

“We’re supposed to go after Christmas, but—” Elizabeth sighed and pulled out a fourth photograph that she’d printed from the website. “This dress went online the other day. Brand new.” A gorgeous, jeweled halter neckline with a full tulle skirt — “It’s _way_ out of my price range, but I just—”

Elizabeth shifted, wincing as her throat tightened. Her lungs started to burn. No. Not now. Not today.

“Elizabeth?” Lois murmured, touching her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I—” Elizabeth tried to expand her lungs, but drew in a sharp gasp as her chest seized. “I _can_ _’t_ —”

“Emily, get your brother—Alan!” Monica shot to her feet, rounding the sofa. “The oxygen tank—”

“I’m getting it—” Alan rushed out of the room, calling for Alice or Reginald.

“Water,” Monica told Lois, who hurried to fill one of the glasses from the pitcher at the minibar. She sat down next to Elizabeth, taking her hand in hers and pressing her hand to her wrist. “Elizabeth, look at me—”

She couldn’t catch her breath—her eyes were burning, tears sliding down her cheeks—dimly Elizabeth heard Jason’s voice—felt his weight beside her—

“Monica—”

“Elizabeth, I need you to look at me—” Monica snapped, and Elizabeth turned, found Monica’s eyes. “You’re hyperventilating. You need to slow down your breathing—”

“C-Can’t—” Her brain was fuzzy, and her vision was blurring. “C-can’t—”

“Monica, here’s the oxygen.” Alan shoved the tank at his wife, then set a black doctor’s bag down. Monica handed the mask to Jason, who fit it over Elizabeth’s face.

“Should I call 911?” Emily asked, her voice small, sounding like it was coming from far away. Elizabeth just wanted to close her eyes—felt herself drifting away.

“Elizabeth, don’t you pass out on me—” Monica ordered.

“Elizabeth—” She turned towards Jason’s voice, his worried eyes. “Look at me. Breathe with me. Okay?” He exhaled slowly, then inhaled slowly. “Hold your breath. I’ll count. One, two, three—”

Slowly, with the help of the oxygen and Jason’s counting, Elizabeth was able to get her breathing under control. She felt her lungs relax, and her head started to clear. “What’s—” She looked at Monica, her voice thin and shaky. “I was just _sitting_ here.”

“I know,” Monica said grimly. She smoothed Elizabeth’s hair from her face. “Lois, go make sure Lila and Edward didn’t hear anything. I don’t want them to worry.”

“I—” Lois hesitated. “I just—”

“Come on,” Ned murmured to his ex-wife quietly. “Let’s go check on my grandparents. Make sure they’re still with my mother and Dillon in the parlor.”

“Okay.” Lois took a deep breath. She focused on Ned’s face. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to call the hospital?” Alan asked Monica quietly. “Get a room set up?”

“Not yet,” Monica said with a shake of her head. “Let’s just—” She pressed her fingers to Elizabeth’s wrists. “Let’s just concentrate on your breathing.”

Alan walked around the sofa, put an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. Emily turned into his embrace, her own heart racing.

“Monica, why would she start having trouble like this without—without stress?” Jason asked roughly as Elizabeth slumped into his side, exhausted from the episode. “She was tired today, but fine—”

“How long did you feel short of breath?” Monica asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Alan, I need my blood pressure pump—”

Alan hurried to hand it to her, and Monica started to fit the cuff over Elizabeth’s elbow. “It was a quick progression from crisis to hyperventilation,” he noted. “Is that common?”

“It didn’t—” Elizabeth winced as the blood pressure pump expanded on her upper arm. “It didn’t used to be. It was—it was so fast. I barely realized it before I really couldn’t breathe at all—”

“Monica—”

“Jason,” Monica cut him off, “let me get this blood pressure reading and we’ll talk—”

“I’ve been resting, I promise,” Elizabeth stressed, hating how thin and weak her voice sounded to her ears. “Ever since our appointment—”

“I know, darling, I know—” Monica sighed as she looked at the reading. “All right. Still in the normal range. Still in the higher end,” she added, “but normal. I don’t think we need to take you in tonight.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “But something is wrong.”

“Mom?” Emily said softly when Monica said nothing. “ _Is_ something wrong—”

“I still want to do the echocardiogram,” she told Jason and Elizabeth. “But I think I’ll be adding a few other tests. We’ll get to the bottom of it. You have oxygen at the penthouse?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we still have the portable. I got one for upstairs in the bedroom,” Jason said, “and we keep one in the living room.”

“Take this one with you for the car,” Monica said. “I’ll call you when the tests are set up. Try to rest and relax,” she told Elizabeth. “But if this happens again—oxygen on and go straight to the hospital. Got it?”

“Got it.” Jason frowned, looking around at the printouts on the table. “Uh, can I get some help putting her things together?”

Emily rushed forward, shoving the dress photos out of his sight. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get Dillon and Ned. Dad?” She gathered photos and printouts into her hands, folding them so Jason couldn’t see them. She left the room, followed by Alan.

“They gave us a lot for—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “For the baby,” she told Jason.

“I probably should have waited until the baby shower,” Monica admitted with a forced smile. “But I was worried I’d overdo it.”

Jason eyed the stack of gifts in the corner. “And _that_ _’s_ not overdoing it?”

Monica lifted her chin. “Audrey’s not here, so I’m representing the Hardy family. After all, if Steve and Audrey hadn’t sponsored that program, I wouldn’t have come to Port Charles.” She winced. “Or your father.”

“I always forget—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I’m so tired,” she murmured. “I wasn’t tired before—”

“Is it okay for her—” Jason paused, gathering himself. “Are you _sure_ we shouldn’t go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth murmured.

“Her vitals are stable,” Monica assured him. “It’s all right. She’s exhausted and needs to rest. Call me if you need me, and I’ll come by tomorrow to check on her again.” She got to her feet. “Let me get her coat, and you can take her out to the car.”

“Jason…”

Jason sighed, then looked down, focused on her face. “Hey,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. “Rest. We’ll be home soon.”

**Gatehouse: Living Room**

Ned unlocked the door, then stepped inside to let Lois walk past him, her arms still tightly folded across her chest. “You heard Monica—Elizabeth is all right—”

“I just—” Lois took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about that day I went to see her, and she fell apart in her bedroom. She didn’t want to testify.”

“I know—”

“And she did it anyway. She did that so that this could be over for all of us.” Lois bit at the nail on her thumb. “She did it for Brooke. So that the tape could be admitted, and that judge—the world—could hear what a monster he was—what he did to our baby.”

“She’s in good hands with Monica,” Ned assured her. He walked over and put his hands on her shoulder. “Monica is one of the best cardiopulmonologists in the state, and Jason will do whatever it takes to take care of her.”

“I know.” She cleared her throat. “And I know she’s not—I _know_ she’s not my daughter. I can see what you’re thinking, Ned. And maybe—maybe it’s just—” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I couldn’t protect Brooke. I couldn’t make her pain go away. I caused her pain by sending her here, by never listening to her—”

“Baby—hey—Brooke knew you and I loved her. She was coming around—she’d started to understand what we wanted for her by going to college—” Ned kissed her forehead. “But I get it. Elizabeth is only a few years older. You need somewhere to put that overprotective mama bear energy.”

“Watching her struggle to breathe—knowing she was having those issues the day she testified—I just feel responsible. Like I should have been able to stop it. To protect her. To protect Brooke. And I can’t go back. We can’t fix it. I don’t know why I have to keep learning that—”

“Because every day I wake up,” Ned said roughly, “I remember all over again that she’s gone. And for a moment, I think it’s a dream. A nightmare. But it’s not. It’s real.” He folded her into his embrace, and after a minute, she slid her arms around his waist.

“Does it ever stop?” she asked dully. “I just want it to be over.”

“I know, baby,” Ned murmured. He laid his cheek on her head, closing his eyes, rocking Lois as she continued to cry. But he didn’t think it would ever be over. If he would ever wake up without having to remind himself every day that his little girl was gone.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

By the time Jason carried Elizabeth through their front door, she was feeling a lot better and more alert.

“Let’s sit down here for a little while—” she said as Jason turned towards the stairs. He hesitated. “Jason—I’ll wear the oxygen mask if you want. And you can take my pulse every five minutes.”

He winced, then set her down on her feet. “I know. I’m doing it again,” Jason said with a sigh. He unbuttoned her coat. “I know it drives you crazy when I hover.”

“It does,” Elizabeth admitted. She shed the coat, then handed it to him. “But I know I push myself sometimes, and that drives _you_ crazy, so…” She went over to the tree they’d decorated the week before and found the last gift she’d kept underneath. “I can live with it if you can.”

“Sometimes?” Jason said dryly. He watched her carefully as she sat down. “Constantly.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Coming from the original reckless bad boy who won’t hear a helmet—” Elizabeth lightly rapped her knuckles against his temple. “But makes me wear one—”

“We’re not starting that again—”

“I like your face just the way it is—” Elizabeth glared at the package he’d pulled from under the sofa. “What is that? We said no Christmas presents—”

Jason gestured at what she was holding in her hand. “What’s that?”

“Listen, this—” She pursed her lips. “This isn’t a Christmas present. I just didn’t want to wait for the wedding—” She huffed as his smile broadened. “I love when you do that,” Elizabeth murmured. She leaned forward, kissed the corner of his mouth. “You should smile more.”

“I do—around you.”

“Oh—” Her cheeks flushed as she shoved the package at him. “Here. You first—”

“No—” Jason shook his head, handed her the gift. “You.”

“Why—” But curiosity won over her need to annoy and bug Jason, so Elizabeth ripped into the wrapping paper, frowning as she looked at the paperwork underneath. “This is—”

“It’s an application. For next fall at PCU,” Jason told her. “Gail said the deadlines for admission were at the end of February.” He tipped his head. “Did you change your mind?”

“No. No, I guess—I just lost track of it for a while. With the hearing and resting—” Elizabeth looked at him. “You really think I should do it—”

“If it’s what you want. I watched you on that stand a few weeks ago—” Jason set the application side, took her hands in his, then focused on her. “And I know how hard that was. I remembered you sitting upstairs, telling me you couldn’t do it.”

“I really wasn’t going to. I thought I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t face him—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “And you would have let me do that. Let me hide. Let me run away.”

“I would have, but I knew you wouldn’t. Because, even when it would make my life easier—” Jason tucked her hair behind her ear, “you don’t run away. You don’t hide. I saw the other women—the other survivors—and they were looking to you. You gave them that, Elizabeth. And you stood up for them. For yourself. I think you can do anything. Whatever you need to make this happen,” he said, tapping the application, “I’ll get it for you.”

She leaned forward, kissed him, framing his face with her hands. “I did all of that because I knew you’d be there. I watched you, and I knew I could get through anything. I can help other people because of you. And—” Elizabeth leaned her forehead against his. “I want to do more. Help other girls like me. Other men, too.”

“Then, we’ll fill out the application and make it happen.” Jason kissed her again, spearing his hands through her hair, tilting her head back.

“Wait, wait—” Elizabeth laughed as she pulled back. “You have to open yours—” She reached over for his gift.

“Okay—” Jason stripped off the wrapping, frowning slightly at the manila envelope. He opened it, sliding out two— “Plane tickets?”

“Open-ended because with the baby and me not feeling great — we’re not going to be able to travel for a while, but I was thinking…” Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe this summer. We could take the baby. Before—” She laughed. “Before I start school.”

“Italy,” Jason murmured, looking at the itinerary. “Venice.”

“Yeah. Um, I paid for them myself,” Elizabeth told him. “Because I really—I wanted this to be—” When Jason frowned at her, she sighed. “I know you don’t care about that stuff or money, but I wanted to give you something. I know I’m not feeling so hot right now, and we’re—we’re trying hard not to be worried about these tests Monica wants, but I know we’re both going to do whatever she tells us, so our son is safe. Having a baby—with you—that’s my dream. And I know Italy was more my dream—” She wrinkled her nose. “This isn’t coming out the way I planned it—wait. We can go somewhere else—you pick—”

Jason put two fingers over her lips. “I would have stopped you sooner,” he told her, “but I like it when you ramble.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, then punched him in the shoulder. “Ugh, you’re so annoying. Do you like the tickets or not?”

“Yeah.” Jason cupped her chin, then kissed her again. “I like the tickets,” he murmured.


	17. Chapter Sixty-Seven

_I'm proud of who I am_  
 _No more monsters, I can breathe again_  
 _And you said that I was done_  
 _Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come_  
 _'Cause I can make it on my own, oh_  
 _And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known_  
 _I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh_  
 _When I'm finished, they won't even know your name_  
\- Praying, Kesha

* * *

_Monday, December 29, 2003_

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Jason walked out of the bathroom, winding his tie around his neck, and hesitated as he watched Elizabeth carefully sit on the edge of the bed, close her eyes, and exhale slowly, pressing her hand to the curve of her belly.

She’d been resting since her breathing problems on Christmas Day, but he knew she still wasn’t bouncing back the way Kelly and Monica had hoped she would after nearly three weeks of dedicated rest and relaxation.

Instead—things seemed to be worse. The circles under her eyes were darker than they’d been even in the months after the panic room when he knew she hadn’t been sleeping well. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a full breath without thinking about it first.

He was spending a lot of time listening to her breathe, taking her pulse, and he was wondering if he should buy a blood pressure pump to have in the penthouse or an oxygen tank for each room.

“I’m fine.”

Jason blinked, then focused on her, realizing Elizabeth was looking at him, her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Elizabeth—” He shook his head, then sat next to her. “You don’t have to go today. It’s over. It’s a formality. He’s going to prison today. Ned and Lois will be there. I know some of the other women from your group will be—but you’ve done enough.”

“It will _never_ be enough,” Elizabeth murmured. “I can’t change the past. I can’t stop myself from going down that path, sitting on that bench. I can’t stop myself from taking a shower or not going to the police right away.” She looked at him, their eyes meeting. “It will never be enough. And it will never be over.”

“Hey.” He took her hand, laced his fingers through hers. “He’s not getting out of prison. He can’t come back—”

“Not physically. But he’ll never leave me. Not really.” Elizabeth sighed, then got to her feet to walk over to her closet. “Months will go by, and then something might remind me. I’ll have another nightmare.” She slid her feet into a pair of flat sandals. “I went to Baker’s sentencing. Five years ago. And Lucky told me it was over. That I wouldn’t have to think about him anymore. Not for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Elizabeth winced as she sat at the vanity table. “You want to protect me. You want me to be okay. Right? And yeah, I think I wish I could sit at home today and rest. I’m so tired…” She looked at her face in the mirror, touched the circles. “And maybe it is silly to think I have that kind of power—that if I don’t follow every step of the process, it will somehow fall apart.”

“It’s not.”

“If you—I know things are tense right now. Um, if you need to be at work, I can ask Ned to give me a ride—”

“Bernie and Justus know where I am if they need anything.” Jason met her eyes in the mirror. “Nothing else matters.”

Elizabeth managed a faint smile. “All right. Well, let me finish getting ready so we can get this over with.”

**Quartermaine Estate: Front Room**

“I don’t see why I can’t go,” Edward said, standing up from the sofa, furrowing his brows. “I want to be there to watch that monster dragged off for the last time—”

“Lois and I talked about it.” Ned put an arm around his ex-wife’s shoulders. “And my being there will make it enough of a press event. Quartermaines start showing up, and it’s back in the national news.”

“It should be—that scum—”

“We’re thinking of Elizabeth,” Lois said quietly. “She’s not feeling well,” she reminded the older man who sighed and looked at his daughter-in-law. “If we can minimize the attention, it will make it easier on her.”

“The local news will be covering it, Edward,” Monica told him. “We can watch it later, but I think Ned and Lois are right. The fewer people who attend, the less of a media circus.”

“I just—” Edward sighed, then sat back down. He looked at Lila’s kind and worried eyes. “I just want to help. Be there.”

“I know, darling.” Lila held out her hand, and Edward took it between his own. “But helping means _listening_ to what your family needs.”

“You’re right. As always.” Edward kissed her hand, looked at his grandson. “If anything goes wrong at this sentencing, I will get the President on the phone in an hour—”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Lois said, but she was smiling now because they both knew if Edward wanted to make trouble for the courts, he could. “But thank you. We just—we want to get through this day.” She looked at Ned. “It’s the last thing we can do for our little girl.”

**Brownstone: Kitchen**

Bobbie checked her watch, then sighed. “The sentencing starts in less than an hour,” she murmured, setting a cup of coffee in front of Carly. “I still don’t feel right not being there. I took off the entire day—”

“Jason said they were hoping to keep this one a bit quiet,” Carly reminded her. “Sit, Mama. You’ve been on your feet for days between Christmas and work. If we went to the hearing, then you know the Quartermaines would want to be there. They mean well—”

“But everywhere they go, they drag the media. I know. And Elizabeth needs the break. So do Ned and Lois. All of us.” Bobbie sat down, picked up her own coffee, and sipped it. “It’s chilling,” she said. “To think that I rented a room to him. That Ruby ran him a tab. Elizabeth served him for nearly two more years. And we never knew.”

“Monsters like Vinnie Esposito should come with a label,” Carly muttered. “But they don’t. They look like everyone else, and you don’t see the darkness until it’s too late.” She rubbed the side of her head. “I’m seeing Kevin tomorrow. He was able to fit me in.”

“I’m glad. I know you didn’t want to go back into therapy—”

“But I need to. I need to put myself first. And that seems crazy to say.” Carly leaned back in her chair, shaking her head a bit. “I spent my entire life putting myself first—what I wanted, needed—it was always my top priority. God, even after I had Michael—I couldn’t stop. The old me—I don’t think I ever would have stayed. I don’t think I would have gone back in the first place. I don’t know.”

“Carly—”

“I used to think that it meant something—the fact that I could put Sonny first—that I would stop and make sure I was doing what he needed me to do before I thought about myself—when he told me he was faking his death last year—” She tipped her head to the ceiling. “I felt so trusted. Like I’d earned my way back into the circle, and that he valued me. Respected me. How could we fall so far so fast?”

“You made a choice a few months ago,” Bobbie said, “when you and Elizabeth turned down that deal. And Sonny had the choice to respect and support you. Or to disagree and hold it against you. Two people—they can travel down a road quite easily if they agree all the time—but when you come to a crossroads—it’s the _choice_ that defines what happens next.”

“He couldn’t see me.” Carly’s breath was shaky. “And I tried too hard to see him. I think, Mama, that I wasn’t lying when I told him I’m afraid of him. I know there’s darkness in him. I’ve always known that. I knew it before we ever fell in love, you know?”

She twisted her wedding ring. “But his darkness is different. Jason would get so angry at me—I did so much damage to him—tortured and hurt him a thousand ways—and I never felt afraid. Sonny—I _never_ thought he’d hurt me.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Bobbie covered her daughter’s hand. “I’ve been there. Trusting your heart, your soul, and your body to a man that betrays you. Sonny might regret what happened, but until he gets some serious help—”

“I don’t think I could go back even then,” Carly admitted. “I’m starting—I think even if he had gone the day after it happened to a doctor or even admitted he needed help—I don’t know if I could ever forget what happened. Or forgive him. He put me back in that room, Mama. Physically. And mentally. And it kills me because _his_ fear is _mine_. He can’t stand being locked up, and he did it to me.”

“You make whatever _choice_ is right for you, Carly,” Bobbie told her. “And you think about your kids. They come first. Sonny is going to have to take care of himself for a change.”

**Port Charles Courthouse: Courtroom A**

Elizabeth sat down next to Lois in the front row, squeezed her hand, then looked around. She exchanged muted glances with Dana Watson and Veronica Logan, two of the survivors from the group who had chosen to come and watch the final step.

The others, including Renee, had considered the hearing and plea agreement the end of everything, and Elizabeth couldn’t blame them. She wanted this nightmare to be over — but as she’d told Jason that morning —

This would never be over. It would always be part of her DNA, part of her story, and somehow, Elizabeth needed to learn to be okay with that. Jason sat next to her, took her hand in his, and offered a faint smile. As long as she had him — she might be able to do it.

Even though she knew he was going to irritated, even angry with her, in a few minutes.

“You managed to convince Edward to stand down?” Elizabeth asked, breaking the silence.

“It was tough,” Ned admitted, putting an arm around Lois’s shoulders. “But Grandmother, as always, stepped in when all hope was lost.”

“No one manages Edward like Lila,” Lois said with a nod. “But he said he was putting the President on speed dial.”

Elizabeth almost laughed at the image of Edward having the White House on standby—but her mirth was smothered when the bailiff stepped forward, called the courtroom to order, and asked the deputies to bring in the defendant.

Taggert and Dante slipped in, sitting in one of the empty rows on the other side of the courtroom. Taggert offered Elizabeth and her group a nod of encouragement.

“All right,” Scott said, twisting slightly in his seat. “This won’t take long. We’re almost at the end.”

Elizabeth nodded, took a deep breath, but didn’t look towards the door that opened. She heard the shuffle of footsteps, the clanking of chains, but didn’t look towards him. She couldn’t do that quite yet.

“I understand that although the prosecution and defense have agreed on a sentencing recommendation, the DA’s office would like the opportunity to have impact statements presented?” the judge asked.

Scott rose to his feet. “Yes, sir, Your Honor. Considering the heinous nature of the crimes committed, the state wanted the victims to have a chance to speak on the record. Not all of the women brutally attacked and raped by the defendant have chosen to speak—”

“Your Honor, my client is only pleading to one such assault,” the defense attorney said, leaping to his feet. “Any others—”

“If your client would like to wait until we go to trial on seven accounts of rape and assault, two counts of attempted murder, and attempted rape—” Scott said pleasantly, “the DA’s office is ready, willing, and able to go to trial. We could start today—”

Elizabeth’s stomach rolled, and she closed her eyes. She was one of the counts of attempted rape and murder—Christ—

“Inhale and count to fifteen,” Jason said softly. She looked at him, then nodded. Better to get ahead of any problems.

“Spare me the histrionics, gentlemen,” the judge said blandly. “Your client may not be pleading to these counts, Mr. Oakley, but you can listen to the victims now or at trial. Choose.”

The defense attorney scowled, then nodded. “All right. We’ll waive any protest.” He sat back down and whispered to his client. Elizabeth refused to look over.

“Present your first statement, Mr. Baldwin.”

Scott turned to Lois, who took a deep breath and walked up to the front. Up until now, Ned had given all the public statements regarding Brooke’s case since he’d been running for election. Lois’s hands were trembling slightly as she set a piece of paper down on the podium.

For the first time, she turned and looked directly at Vinnie, meeting his eyes. “I knew you,” she murmured. “And you knew me. You knew my baby.”

“Ma’am, please address the court,” the judge said, gently. Lois turned away from Vinnie, met the judge’s kind eyes, then nodded.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor. My name is Lois Cerullo. My daughter was Brooke Lynn Ashton. She was nineteen years old when Vincent Esposito grabbed her, threw her to the ground, raped her, then beat her. She’ll never see twenty.” Lois paused, took a deep breath. “The defendant knew my daughter. Grew up with her in Bensonhurst. The defendant is known to me. To my family. He was like one of our own. My daughter would have trusted him.”

She waited a moment, gathered herself. “Brooke could sing like an angel. She could make you feel something just by opening her mouth and letting her heart fall out with her words, with her voice. She was going to change the world—make it better. But Vinnie Esposito broke her. He beat her so badly she needed pain pills, and it was those pain pills she used to block out the horror of what he’d done to her. Those pills took her life.” Lois fisted her hand on the podium, squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’ll never know if she knew it was him. If she remembered him in her final moments. I pray she didn’t. I hope she didn’t leave this world knowing that a man she thought of as family had done this to her—it’s hard enough for me to live in the world with the knowledge of what this has done to my family. To the other women. Because my Brookie—she wasn’t alone.”

Lois looked at Vinnie again. “You did your evil in the dark, but she was your last. And I can hold on to that. Because Brooke was strong enough to give her statement, and the police were able to make that connection to earlier cases. She didn’t know it, but she _was_ part of the fight to stop you. And she did it. You’re done. You’re nothing. I’m going to leave this courtroom, and it will be the last moment I give you. From now on, I’m just going to remember my baby and her voice. My angel in the light while you burn in hell.”

She looked at the judge. “Thank you.”

Lois turned and walked back to her seat, squeezing Ned’s hand as she sat down. Elizabeth raised her brows when Scott called Dante up to the podium. Vinnie’s cousin took a bracing breath, then walked forward.

“My name is Dante Falconieri,” he said in a low voice. “And Vinnie is my cousin. Brooke was my godsister—” His smile was faint. “We take that seriously in Bensonhurst. I never had any siblings, and Aunt Lois was just as likely to whack me upside the head as my own mother was. It was my job to look after Brooke. I didn’t—I didn’t know I had to protect her from my own family.” Dante turned to look at Vinnie, who just lifted his brows. “I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I missed it. How we all missed it. But I can’t waste any more time on you, Vinnie.”

He faced the judge again. “I’m not one of Vinnie’s victims, but I’m speaking for the Falconieri family, even if they don’t think I got a right to do that anymore. I’m speaking for Brooke because it was my job to take care of her, and I failed her. I failed all those other girls because I didn’t know anyone could be so blind to evil could walking next to you. You throw him in jail, Your Honor, and make sure he doesn’t get out one minute early. We need to do a better job of protecting everyone else.”

Dante shoved away from the podium and stalked out of the courtroom. Lois twisted in her chair, her eyes dark with worry.

Elizabeth winced as Scott turned to look at her. She knew Jason would have argued with her about this — knew he expected one of the other survivors to speak next— but —

There were just some things she _had_ to do.

Scott nodded at her, and Elizabeth tried to release Jason’s hand—but he held fast. “What—” Jason inhaled sharply, and she saw the flash of anger, a flare of hurt in his eyes before his expression went blank.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I have to finish it.”

His mouth tight, Jason loosened his grip, and Elizabeth walked to the podium, keeping her eyes on the judge. If she didn’t look away from him — she would get through this. Inhale, count to fifteen, exhale. Inhale, count to fifteen—

“My name is Elizabeth Webber, and I was Vincent Esposito’s first and last victim.” She met the judge’s eyes. “If you’ve listened to the tape or read the transcript, you know that he thinks I’m his soul mate. I was sixteen the first time he saw me. He took my statement after a shooting. I don’t remember him. I apparently served him often as a regular at Kelly’s. His face, his name — I don’t know him. I _never_ knew him.”

She paused. Inhale. Count to fifteen. Exhale. “But he’s been my nightmare for nearly six years. At first, he raped me every night when I closed my eyes. Eventually, it was less. Days, weeks, and even months would pass, but the nightmares always came back. Even when I thought my attacker was another man, they didn’t stop. Now that I know for sure who attacked me that night in the park—even though I fought him off and stopped him from raping me again — I know that the nightmares will be with me for the rest of my life.”

She looked up from the paper. Elizabeth didn’t need to look at her words. Not anymore. “The purpose of a victim’s impact statement is to prove to the court the damage that’s been done to me because of this crime. I’m supposed to rip open a vein to prove to you that I am damaged by this man, and you—as the judge—are required to take my words into account when you pass sentence.”

Elizabeth inhaled, counted to fifteen, then exhaled. “The damage that has been done to me can’t be undone. It can’t be fixed. It will fade, but it will scar. And I will always know it happened. I will always be the girl who was raped in the park, and I will carry with me the knowledge that other women who looked like me were raped because my rapist wanted to relive his glory—wanted the experience of raping me again.

“ _That_ _’s_ what I want you to remember, Your Honor, when you sentence the defendant. My attacks are what he’s pleading to, but I am not special. The other women deserve their pain to be known, to be remembered.

“I wasn’t going to speak today. I thought I had said everything I needed to say in Syracuse, at the press conference. But there are women who can’t speak yet, and might never be able to. Someone needs to stand for them. The system refused to. Even now, with this plea deal, the system has decided that it will be easier for all of us if we make a deal. Because to go to trial means to make us rip open wounds that have only begun to heal, and for some of us—we can’t bear to do it again—”

She stopped. Inhaled, counted to fifteen, then exhaled. Elizabeth turned to look at Vinnie Esposito briefly before directing her attention back to her notes, knowing the judge would not let her continue if she spoke directly to him.

“You will not win. My wounds will scar, but that will make me stronger than I was before you tried to break me. You will never have the power to hurt anyone else. I was the start of this terror, and I _will_ be the end of it.”

She looked back at the judge. “It is my understanding that although Vincent Esposito and the DA’s office have reached a sentence recommendation, that it is the court’s discretion whether or not you accept that recommendation. That once the plea has been entered, he cannot withdraw it without showing just cause in writing.”

“Elizabeth,” Scott hissed. Ned straightened in his chair as Jason leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

“I am asking you, Your Honor,” Elizabeth said, “to remember that I am but _one_ victim. There are six others in Port Charles with DNA matches. Three more in Buffalo whose DNA matched. An ADA nearly died to bring this man to justice. To do what the PCPD couldn’t do for five years. I am asking you and this court not to throw us away. Not to let him win. We deserve more, and I am demanding better.”

And for the last time, Elizabeth looked at her rapist whose face had finally changed—the color had leeched from him as his lawyer looked vaguely sick. At the man who had haunted her dreams and stolen her childhood—

“I might have been the first, but I guarantee you — I am the _last_ woman you will try to break.”

Without another word, without looking back at the judge, Elizabeth returned to her seat. Inhale, count to fifteen, then exhale. She couldn’t meet Jason’s eyes, couldn’t look at anyone. She knew Scott was probably pissed — she knew there was a chance the judge would listen to her, which meant Vinnie could appeal the sentence and there would be a trial—

She knew she might have torpedoed the whole damn thing —

But Elizabeth didn’t care.

“Thank you, Miss Webber, for that statement.” The judge lifted his brow. “You are correct, of course. Once a defendant has entered a plea of guilty, he must show just cause to withdraw it, and a court would have to agree with him.” He smiled thinly at the defense table. “It should be interesting to see if you can find a just cause with the case against you, Mr. Esposito—”

“Your Honor,” the defense attorney said, clearing his throat. “You should not make these decisions based on emotion—”

“On the contrary, I am, as Miss Webber reminded me, required by law to use the victim’s impact statement as part of my determination.” The judge looked at Scott. “Mr. Baldwin.”

“Uh, of course, the DA’s office will respect whatever the court decides,” Scott said weakly. “It’s just a recommendation.”

“It is. Since the defendant is pleading to a count of rape in the third degree, a count of attempted murder in the first degree, and assault in the first degree — it is this court’s determination that the defendant, Vince Esposito, shall be sentenced to two terms of twenty-five to life, to be served consecutively.” He paused. “That’s fifty to life, Mr. Esposito, if you were wondering. And if you make it to fifty years, there are still seven years on the rape count.” The judge banged his gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

“Bullshit—” Vinnie exploded as he sprang out of his seat. He went after his lawyer as deputies dragged him out of the courtroom. “Bullshit! You _promised_ me I’d be out in twenty-five—”

“Will he appeal?” Ned asked as he stood up. “Can he?”

“He could,” Scott said, eying Elizabeth, “but it’s a steep hill to climb. And, uh, I see that Elizabeth gambled on just cause being in her favor.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said softly. “If I’d told you what I wanted to say, you would have told me no.”

“Maybe.” Scott shrugged, picked up his briefcase. “Maybe not. But if anyone has earned the right to flip the tables on this—” He grinned at her. “Well-played, Miss Webber. You should have been a lawyer.”

“But he’s—fifty years.” Lois pressed a fist to her chest, looking at Elizabeth. “He’s—he can’t come back.”

“Fifty-seven years,” Elizabeth corrected. “He’ll be in his seventies by the time he can qualify for parole.” She bit her lip, turned to look at Jason. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” she asked.

Jason looked at her, then shook his head, and walked out, the doors to the courtroom swinging behind him. Elizabeth stared after him as Taggert crossed over to her.

“What’s crawled up Anger Boy’s ass?” he asked. “You’d think he’d be _happy_ —”

“I didn’t tell him I was speaking today,” Elizabeth admitted. “I guess we’re back to name-calling.”

“How long did you think that truce was going to last?” Taggert shrugged. “You did good, kid. You need a ride?”

“No. He’s not going to leave me stranded here.” At least Elizabeth didn’t think so. She’d really thought this would be the kind of thing where she asked for forgiveness, not permission — but maybe she’d pushed Jason one too many times.

**Courthouse: Hallway**

Jason sat on the bench outside the courtroom, ignoring the reporters who knew better than to shove a camera or microphone in his face. Heat flooded through his body, and he knew that he had to get himself under control before Elizabeth joined him. It was taking every inch of his famed control to keep his expression blank in front of the reporters.

She hadn’t told him.

She hadn’t warned him that she was doing this—that she was speaking today, that she was going to encourage the judge to throw out the entire sentencing recommendation—

It was supposed to be over today. She was supposed to be out of this done with the stress, done with the worry—

Instead—

The doors opened, and Elizabeth emerged, flanked by Ned and Lois. Lois put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder to keep the reporters from crowding her.

“Mayor, Mayor—”

Ned scowled, but with a glance at Lois and Elizabeth, who kept moving towards the elevator, he nodded. “I am gratified by the decision of the court today,” he told the reporter who shoved a mic in his face. “And humbled by the continuing courage that Elizabeth Webber has shown in facing not only the man who raped her at the age of sixteen but attacked her in her own home less than three months ago. If the PCPD had shown an ounce of her courage at any step in their investigation before my daughter’s attack—” Ned’s voice faltered, and he dipped his head to gather himself.

Jason watched Lois and Elizabeth get on the elevator and then decided to wait for Ned to finish his statement so they could leave together. He didn’t want to be alone with Elizabeth just yet. Not until he could talk himself out of being angry. Out of being hurt that she’d shut him out of this.

“I thank the Major Crimes unit and Lieutenant Taggert for their diligent work, the dogged determination of the district attorney’s office, and for the survivors who stepped forward, particularly Elizabeth. I hope when you report on this story tonight, it's her words that you remember. That you report. Not mine. All those women deserved better from us. It didn’t have to be like this. She shouldn’t have had to step up over and over again. This case and the injustice done to those women is a stain on the city and the men who led it. Vincent Esposito is just a symptom of the disease. That’s all.”

Ned strode away from the reporters, and Jason followed him, shoving his hands in his pockets. When the elevator doors closed on them, and the reporters were gone, Ned looked at Jason. “Whatever you’re feeling, you have a right to it—”

“Ned—” Jason turned to his cousin. “You don’t know everything—”

“I know that Elizabeth’s health is fragile and that she just opened the door to a trial—it should be over today. Part of me wants it to be. To close the door. To get on with my life.”

Ned pressed the button for the lobby. “But it’s not up to you or me to decide that. Elizabeth has the weight of knowing that scum was raping her over and over again when he attacked those women—and it doesn’t matter that it wasn’t her fault. She’ll take it on anyway. She reminds me of you.”

Jason shook his head. “You don’t know me—”

“Jason Quartermaine decided he was going to save his brother no matter what,” Ned murmured. “He had everything going for him. He was acing medical school, was wildly in love with Keesha, had a family that idolized him—he was a prince among men—”

Jason’s mouth tightened at the reminder of who he had been. “That’s not me—”

“Maybe, maybe not. But Elizabeth could have sat silent today. She could have stayed silent in September and not come forward as a survivor. She could have moved on with her life, with you, the wedding, and the baby. She didn’t, Jason. Jason Quartermaine could have let AJ drive drunk that night and crash the car on his own. He didn’t.”

As the doors opened, Jason saw Elizabeth standing at the security desk next to Lois, her face pale, her eyes tired.

“She didn’t tell you, Jason, and maybe that was wrong, but from where I’m standing — knowing Vinnie Esposito won’t be able to see the light of day until long after I’m dead? It doesn’t feel that way.”

Jason didn’t respond, and Ned let the subject drop. They walked over to Lois and Elizabeth.

“Jason—” Elizabeth began, but he shook his head.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” he told her, glancing around at the reporters who had come down the stairs. “Let’s go.”

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

The ride home was quiet, and Elizabeth wasn’t entirely sure how to handle Jason in a mood like this. Their arguments had been few and far between since July—and they’d mostly been about the way she’d handled her health and Jason’s reaction to it.

Should she apologize? Probably, she admitted as the elevator climbed towards the penthouse level. He deserved honesty from her, especially now, but—

The doors opened on the fifteenth floor, and Elizabeth fought to contain her irritation when she saw Sonny waiting. Fantastic. With Jason in an unpredictable mood, this was the last thing they needed.

“Do you need to get on?” Jason asked dully, holding his hand to keep the doors from closing as he and Elizabeth stepped off.

“No, I was waiting for you,” Sonny snapped. “Wally told me when you got back. Where the hell have you been?”

“Wait for me in the living room. I’ll be there in a minute,” Jason told Elizabeth flatly.

Even though she knew she was in the wrong, Elizabeth bristled at what sounded like an order. “I know you’re mad, but—”

“Can’t you ever do anything you’re told the first time?” Sonny retorted. Elizabeth swung her head around, her eyes flashing with irritation. Why did he _always_ have something to say?

“Don’t—” Jason bit out, then took a deep breath. “Elizabeth. Please.”

“Fine.” She walked around the corner, and Cody, already at the door, hurriedly shoved the door open. Jason looked at Sonny, his jaw clenched.

“Don’t ever talk to her like that again. If you can’t pretend to respect her, then don’t even bother talking to her at all,” Jason told him. “Do you need something?”

“You haven’t been in the warehouse in days—and you were off again today—”

“It was Christmas,” Jason said evenly. “And we had the sentencing today for Esposito. If you care.”

“I—” Sonny pressed his lips together. “I forgot that was today—”

“Yeah, a lot of that going on right now,” Jason muttered and stalked away from him.

“I’m not done—”

“Well, I am,” Jason said, then shoved his way into the penthouse and slammed the door behind him. He’d spent the entire drive home trying to talk himself out of being angry with her—had nearly managed it—but then Sonny had reminded Jason of all the things he was trying to balance—

Why couldn’t Elizabeth just give him a break? Just once. He just wanted one thing to go the way it was supposed to, and he had a right to expect the woman who said she loved him to have his back.

Elizabeth was standing at the window by the pool table, her coat already thrown over the back of the desk chair.

“ _Why_ didn’t you tell me?” Jason demanded. He stripped off his jacket, grabbed hers, and hung them up, the hangers swinging from the force of his movements. “You should have told me you were going to speak today. That you were going to ask the judge to throw out the sentencing recommendation—”

“Because you would have argued with me.” Elizabeth turned to glare at him. “And this wasn’t something I wanted to have to justify wanting to do. You tried to talk me out of going this morning—”

“And I backed down—”

“Only because you thought I wasn’t going to make a statement.” Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re not going to use my health against me, Jason, to stop me from doing what I have to do—”

“What if Vinnie appeals, and we have to go trial?” Jason stalked across the room, his blood boiling. “This was supposed to be over today. He was going away for twenty-five—”

“It’s not enough—” Elizabeth swiped angrily at her tears as they spilled down her cheeks. “It won’t ever be enough. He was making a deal, and it wasn’t—I could live with this plea before that transcript. Before the tape. But only being punished for me and not for the others? He was _winning_. And I couldn’t let him—”

“What if he goes to trial? What if he gets bail? Elizabeth—you can’t be—” Jason dragged his hands through his hair. “I’m not mad,” he said slowly. “I’m—”

“Yeah, you are. You’re mad. Admit it, Jason. Just—for _once_ —” She jabbed a finger at him. “I’m the reason Ric is alive, and now I’m the reason Vinnie might go to trial instead of rotting in jail starting today—I keep making your life more difficult—”

“It’s—” Jason turned away, put his hands on the sofa, and leaned over, taking a deep breath. He had to stop. Had to think. He was furious—and why? Why? Because Elizabeth had told the truth in her statement?

Because her truth meant this still wasn’t over?

Because it made his life more difficult?

Shame spiraled through him as he accepted that he was angry because what she’d done meant he had to worry about her. He was making this about himself—taking the worst thing that had ever happened to Elizabeth—

He was no better than Sonny lashing out at Carly who just wanted to deal with her trauma on her own terms.

Jason exhaled slowly. “It’s easier to be mad than terrified,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “You’re sick. You know you are. We have these tests tomorrow, and you might have another blood clot, or it might be something else we don’t even know about. And I can’t make that go away.”

“Jason.” He heard her sigh behind him, her steps soft as she approached him. “I don’t expect you, too.”

“I’m supposed to fix things. That’s who I am. What I’m good at. And I can’t—I can’t find Ric. I can’t make you healthy. I can’t make Sonny get his shit together—I can’t do _anything_. And you just—you just invited more stress into all of this. If this goes to trial, if he wins on appeal, you’ll have to testify—”

“If it makes you feel better—though it probably won’t,” Elizabeth said, quietly, “I did talk to Justus first. I didn’t do this without thinking it through. Scott would likely fight any appeal on the sentence. And he could and would fight to the state courts. I wouldn’t have to testify in a trial for a year or more. And Justus also told me that winning the appeal would be very unlikely. Case law is in the state’s favor. I gambled, Jason. Because I couldn’t stand that he was only being punished for my attacks. Not for any of the others. I had to try one last time.”

She’d done all that—had gone to Justus—and hadn’t told him. Hadn’t brought him into this decision. Because she’d known he’d be upset—because she’d known it would worry him.

“And if I had to testify in a year—well, I’ll be a year closer to being okay. The baby will be here, and whatever is wrong—” She put a hand on his chest, and he finally met her eyes. “You don’t have to fix me, Jason. And it is not your job to fix other people.”

“I—”

“You’re good at it, yeah, but you’re not a superhero, Jason. And sometimes, the rest of us need to make mistakes and fix ourselves. I needed to do this. And I _am_ sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you before. I knew you’d make this about my health, and I can’t—I needed to be the one to finish it.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, then exhaled slowly. “You and this baby are everything,” he told her, his voice husky. “If I lose you— _either_ of you—”

Elizabeth leaned up, kissed him, framing his face with her hands. “You won’t. We’ll get through this. And we’ll be stronger for it. I love you.”

“Wishing you were less brave—or less reckless—” Jason added, and she grinned, “would be asking you to be someone you’re not, and I don’t want that. I just—if you could just give me a heads up before you decide to bring down the system again, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best.” She kissed him again. “Now—I’m starving, so—” As she stepped away, and Jason turned towards the takeout menu drawer, her cell phone rang. He went over to the desk, found it in her purse, then hesitated. “It’s Monica.”

“Oh. I guess it’s about tomorrow.” She took the phone from him. “Hey. What’s up?” She listened for a minute, then swallowed hard. “Oh. Okay. I mean—are you sure—no, I guess that makes sense. Um—yeah, no, I get it. Okay. We’ll see you then.”

“What is it?” Jason asked as Elizabeth flipped her phone closed.

“She’s adding a test tomorrow,” Elizabeth said softly. “An x-ray for my chest.”

“An x-ray,” Jason repeated. “But—”

“I know.” She tried to smile. “I guess she thinks it’s worth the risk. Which—” She exhaled slowly. “Kind of scares me.”

“Tell me everything she said.”


	18. Chapter Sixty-Eight

_I don't know how much longer I can fake it_  
 _That it's all alright, that I can do this alone_  
 _And I know that life is what you make it_  
 _But it's hard to see stars when you're always caught in the folds_  
\- Won’t Stop Running, A Great Big World

* * *

_Tuesday, December 30, 2003_

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

When Jason saw his phone light up with Johnny’s name flashing on the Caller ID screen, he hesitated before reaching for it. He’d told Justus and Bernie he wasn’t handling business today unless it was an emergency, and he knew Johnny would have called one of them first with any news before passing it on to him.

Elizabeth was trying to keep her mood upbeat and focus on diagnosis and treatment of whatever was wrong, but Jason could see it was taking a toll on her. He planned to spend the entire day to focus on her, even though he knew it was going to irritate Sonny if it got back to him Jason still wasn’t going to be at the warehouse.

He heard the shower click off in the bathroom as his phone continued to ring. Finally, Jason answered it—

“Johnny—”

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Johnny O’Brien began, “but Justus wanted you to get this from me instead of passing it to Sonny directly.”

Which meant it _was_ about Ric. They hadn’t anything since the sighting a few weeks ago in Venezuela, and Jason had wanted it to be the end of it, to get back to normal— “What happened?”

“Last night, one of my guys saw Lansing here in Puerto Rico. Outside one of Sonny’s clubs in San Juan.”

Jason exhaled slowly, rubbed the back of his neck, and turned when he heard the bathroom door open. Elizabeth emerged, wrapped in a terry cloth towel, her dry hair pinned up on her head.

“Should I go back—” she started to offer, but he shook his head. She slipped past him to walk over to the closet and open it.

“What happened after that?”

“Gabe tried to catch up with him, called it in to get more eyes, but lost sight of him. I’m sorry, Jase—”

“It’s okay. Just—just keep your eyes and ears open, and I’ll deal with it on our end. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Jason closed the phone, then turned to force a smile at Elizabeth as she dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Sorry about that—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth bit her lip as she played with the end of her sleeve. “Everything okay? I mean—do you have to—”

“I have to make one call.” Jason crossed over to her, kissed her forehead. “But that’s it. You’re stuck with me today.”

Elizabeth smiled up at him, then sighed, leaning her head against his chest. “I’m trying not to be scared,” she admitted softly. “We’re catching it early, you know? Before it can get as bad as it did last time.”

“Exactly.” Jason tipped her face up to look at him. “We’ll get through this. No matter what happens.”

Elizabeth touched her belly. “He’s the size of a mango this week,” she told him. “That’s what the book says.” She exhaled slowly. “Monica wouldn’t be asking for this test unless she was worried. There are other ways to diagnose a clot—but if she thinks the risk to the baby is worth it—”

“Hey.” Jason leaned down, brushed his mouth against hers. “It’ll be okay—” He sighed when she just shook her head because they both knew he couldn’t promise that.

“Make your call,” Elizabeth told him. She kissed his cheek. “I’m going downstairs to get started on the water I need to drink, especially since I’m starving and can’t eat before the test.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he promised. He watched her leave, then picked up his phone again to dial Ned and pass on the Puerto Rico tip. He couldn’t keep this from Sonny forever, but there was no way Jason was telling him today.

**General Hospital: Kevin Collins** **’ Office**

“Carly.” Kevin squeezed her hand as she came into his office. “How are you? How was your Christmas?”

“It was okay,” Carly said hesitantly as he closed the door and gestured for her to take a seat. “Thanks for fitting me in. I know things are busy with the holiday—”

“I’m just sorry you felt the need to come back at all. You were doing so well,” Kevin said. He sat down behind his desk. “You said you had a pretty serious episode?”

“Yeah. Um, a few weeks ago. December 9.” Carly fidgeted in the seat. “I don't know if you were paying attention to the news, but the Vinnie Esposito case—”

“There was a hearing in Syracuse,” Kevin said. “Mac’s a friend of mine,” he added. “I know Elizabeth testified. Did you go?”

“Yeah, Sonny and I both went. Um, it was the first time I’d really been out of the house since Morgan was born. Since Ric disappeared.” Carly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and briefly told Kevin about separating from Sonny, returning for safety reasons, and their arguments about her security and returning to work.

“On the day I was _supposed_ to go back to work in December,” Carly continued, “it became very clear that he’d either forgotten or never intended to keep his promises. He never hired Leticia back—and she took another job, so my son lost the nanny he’d had since birth.” That stung the most — she’d always known her boys were safe with Leticia, and you couldn’t have that comfort with everyone. “I mean, even AJ let me keep the nanny Jason hired for him, and AJ hated _everything_ Jason did for Michael.”

Kevin nodded, made a note with his pencil. “So, what happened when you realized that?”

“Sonny had already gone to work, and he was ignoring my calls. He knew I’d be angry—” Carly cleared her throat. “But I didn’t know what I was going to do. There was no one to stay with Morgan, no way for me to get in and out of the building with the new security because I didn’t have a key or a driver—I knew—” Her mouth felt dry as she forced the words out. “I felt trapped.”

When Kevin drew his brows together, Carly hurried to continue, “but Jason and Elizabeth came over. She offered her guard that day, and Jason gave me his key.”

She paused, remembering that moment. “I thought—well, that’s it. He broke his promise. He’s—it’s not different. And I can’t live like this. So I went to work, went to Jason’s because he’d picked up Michael for me, and they’d watched Morgan all day. I was planning to leave. Thinking about how to tell the boys.”

“But you didn’t leave.”

“No, I didn’t. Because Sonny had ignored my calls all day, and it must not have occurred to him that I’d find a way out. He came home, couldn’t find me, and came to Jason’s place, flipping out. He couldn’t breathe—he almost collapsed on the floor—and I knew—”

She stared at the floor as if Sonny were in front of her, that pale, sickly expression on his face. “I couldn’t leave him like that.” She looked at Kevin. “I stayed. I tried to make a compromise with him, and I know he was sorry. He said he was, and he agreed to do better. I just—I thought maybe if I _tried_ harder, if I gave in more, maybe they’d find Ric, and it would be over.”

“What changed on the day of the hearing?”

“I don’t really know,” Carly admitted. “I think—I think it was knowing that while I was feeling locked up and trapped, Elizabeth was just living her life next door. Going to support meetings, organizing that hearing, preparing her testimony—and I was barely able to move a muscle without getting permission from my husband.”

Her lips twisted in a sour smile. “She’s probably who Ric would come after. He was obsessed with _her_ , not me. She’s actually pregnant with medical issues that put her health at risk, but Jason let her set her own limits.”

Carly took a deep breath. “It was such a hard day, listening to her testimony. Listening to what she’d been through the day Vinnie attacked her, but I just kept watching her be strong, and then I watched _Jason_ watching _her_. He was so proud of her—scared out of his mind—but so goddamn _proud_ of what she was doing. And I thought—”

Carly closed her eyes. “I know how it sounds. I _know_ it sounds like I’m jealous, that maybe I’m still in love with him, and I’m _not_. I don’t know if I ever was. I don’t want Jason. I just—I want that _feeling_.”

She opened her eyes to see Kevin looking at her, his head tipped slightly to the side. “What feeling is that?” he asked.

“Of knowing that no matter what happens—no matter _what_ life throws at you—there is always one person who will always be on your side. Who will always, _always_ believe in you. Who will hold you when you need it. I just—to Jason, Elizabeth is the most important person in the world. And maybe it’s selfish, but I just…I want _that_. I want to be the most important person to someone.”

She swiped at her eyes. “And I came home to the penthouse, and I looked at Sonny—and I just—I knew that while I had been putting him at the center—while I had been twisting myself in and out to give him what he needed—he never—not once—did the same for me. And I just…in that moment—it just stopped being enough.”

Carly exhaled slowly. “After that, it’s pretty straightforward. I told him I was leaving, I went up to pack, and he came upstairs and locked me in the bedroom. It’s not a big room, and it has no windows.”

Kevin leaned back, the corners of his mouth turned down. “And that sent you into the episode.”

“I was screaming for him to let me out, screaming for someone—and after that, it’s harder to remember all of it,” Carly admitted. “Everything is just flashes. Elizabeth was there, and I thought maybe she was—maybe Ric had locked her in with me—or then I thought I was watching her drink that water—I remembered Jason—I thought it was on the monitors, watching him—I just—” She looked at him. “I didn’t know what was real or what was in my mind.”

Kevin stood up, rounded the desk, offered Carly a box of tissues. “How did you get out?” he asked softly.

“Jason and Elizabeth,” Carly told him in a soft voice. She took a tissue, dabbed her eyes. “They could hear me screaming from the other penthouse, and they—Jason broke down the door, Elizabeth took me to their place so my mother could come get me. They—” Her voice broke. “They got me out. Again. But it was Sonny who locked me up this time.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “And would you believe _he_ _’s_ angry at _me_ for not letting it go?”

“Is he?” Kevin asked, his voice laced with steel. She looked up to find that he’d taken his seat again, his jaw clenched. He forced himself to relax. “Why do you think that is?”

“Because—in his mind—he did something terrible in a moment of weakness. And because I mostly understand how we got to that point, I should be willing to overlook it. To forgive it.”

Her hands were trembling slightly, so Carly laced them together. “And what terrifies me is I might agree. Because I love him. Because I want my boys to have a family—because when things are good between us—like they were last year for a while—I do feel like I’m the most important person in the world. And I know—God, I _know_ this is about how scared he was when Ric kidnapped me. I do understand how this happened—how he could think even for a second that locking me up to keep me safe made perfect sense.”

She picked up another tissue. “And if it were just me—I think I would go back,” Carly admitted in a small voice. “How stupid is that?”

“It’s _not_ stupid, Carly, for you to recognize that Sonny’s actions make a terrible kind of sense.” Kevin paused. “In fact, it shows a great sense of empathy that you didn’t just write him off as a monster, that you’ve attempted to understand it. Having listened to you talk about his past, I know that you’ve accepted Sonny has a mental illness that has been untreated and undiagnosed for many years. That’s _not_ stupid, Carly.”

“I can’t go back,” Carly told him, her chest tight. “I can’t live like that. It’s not just me. My boys can’t do it. I found out later that when Elizabeth tried to help me, he pushed her—and if he could do that to an adult woman, if he could lock me up after everything I’ve been through—he could turn on anyone. And I need to protect my family. My boys.”

“And yourself,” Kevin finished.

Carly exhaled slowly, nodded. “Yes. And myself. I can’t go back to that panic room ever again. I won’t survive it. Even if it’s just in my own head. I can’t sleep—I’m having concentration issues again—it’s like— _all_ the work we did last summer—it didn’t matter. It’s back, and I don’t know if I can make it stop.”

“Well, last time we were able to concentrate on behavior,” Kevin told her. He scribbled something on a pad of paper. “But I think this time—in addition to continuing to meet, it might be time to try some medication to ease the anxiety.”

Carly bit her lip. She hated the idea of taking pills, but — “All right. I just—I’ll do whatever I need to do to stop it. I don’t want to live like this.”

**PCPD: Locker Room**

Lucky stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it in his locker, pulling out his white undershirt and uniform shirt. He glanced over to his left at his quiet partner who was buttoning his shirt.

“How was Bensonhurst?”

Dante blinked at him, then sighed as he sat on the bench to pull on his shoes. “Quiet. No one really knew what to say to each other. My aunt didn’t come—she was mad that my Uncle Frankie had invited me and my mother. That my grandmother allowed it.”

“But that’s good,” Lucky said. “That your grandmother let you guys come.”

“Sure.” But Dante’s kept his lips pressed together firmly. “She apologized for slapping me after the hearing—” He hesitated. “But I think that’s because it was caught by the newspaper and my Uncle Frankie was mad at her. She’s not really sorry about doing it. Or for—” He stopped. “For anything else.”

“You never really told us what happened,” Cruz said from behind them. They both turned. “You didn’t even tell us you’d seen her until it was in the papers.”

Dante shrugged, pinned his badge on, then closed his locker. “What’s the point? It happened. It’s over. Vinnie was sentenced, and he’s starting his fifty to life at Attica now.”

“C’mon—”

“I’ll see you out there.”

He stepped away from them, and a few minutes later, they heard the locker room door close. Lucky looked at Cruz. “‘I’m not crazy, am I? I feel like something else happened.”

“Maybe,” Cruz admitted. “Or maybe it’s not that complicated. His cousin is going to prison for brutally raping a lot of women, one of whom Dante loved like a sister and committed suicide. And Dante’s part of the reason Vinnie couldn’t claim he was framed. You need _more_?”

“No, but he was handling all of it until the hearing—and then—” Lucky sighed. He closed his locker. “But you’re right. Maybe that’s enough. Sorry you got stuck with the holiday shifts. Was your family okay with it?”

“I don’t mind the overtime,” Cruz said. He flashed Lucky a half-grin. “How was your Christmas? I heard Lulu burned dessert.”

Lucky snorted as he pinned his badge to his shirt. “I’ve never seen food turn to ash that way, to be honest. Christmas was good—it was probably the first time in…” He exhaled slowly, trying to remember. “Actually, it was the first time Nikolas had been invited to our place for Christmas dinner. I just wish Kelsey could have convinced her mom to come up from Buffalo.”

“Maybe next year.”

“Maybe.” Lucky hesitated, then squinted, realizing Cruz hadn’t answered his question about his family. “What’s your usual thing on the holidays? You go to your parents?”

“No,” Cruz said shortly. He closed his locker. “We’re not close, and they don’t live in Port Charles. I gotta go meet Taggert.” He walked out, leaving Lucky alone in the locker room.

**General Hospital: Procedure Room**

Jason folded his arms and stepped back as a nurse checked Elizabeth’s IV, then her vitals. As part of the angiography, Elizabeth needed to be lightly sedated, and her eyes were already drifting closed.

“Jason—” Monica touched his arm. “She’s out, and we need to get started. Come with me into the room with the tech—”

He grimaced but followed his mother out of the room, looking over his shoulder one more time at Elizabeth on the gurney, her eyes closed, and her face pale. He hated seeing her in the hospital.

He and Monica went into a smaller room with a few techs and monitors. His eyes on the window that looked out into the procedure room, Jason said to his mother, “You wouldn’t tell us why you wanted this procedure. Why?”

Monica hesitated, then looked at him. “I told you—I was concerned—”

“Monica,” Jason said quietly, then took a deep breath. “Mom,” he continued, her eyes flashing to him at that term—something he hadn’t said to her more than a handful of times since the accident. “You never lied to me last summer. You _never_ sugar-coated or gave me false hope.”

He nodded back towards the window where Elizabeth lay motionless, and an X-ray tech began to take the first pictures of her lungs. “You never would have asked her to take an X-ray if it weren’t serious. If it weren’t worth the risk. You know how important the baby is to her. To us.”

Monica cleared her throat, watched the monitor as the first results came in. “A pulmonary angiography is more accurate in finding a possible embolism,” she said, “but the catheter also would let me treat it right away. If it _is_ a clot, I’d like Elizabeth to walk out of here today with it resolved.”

Jason frowned. “But why not—” His throat tightened. “You don’t think it’s a clot.”

“No,” she said softly. “I have some suspicions, Jason, but I don’t want to worry Elizabeth until I have a reason to. And I don’t want to worry _you_ either. I know you can handle it. I _know_ how strong you are.”

Monica exhaled as pictures began to move on the screen—Jason knew it was reflecting the dye that had injected into Elizabeth’s veins via the catheter that had been inserted. “Until I’m sure, until I’ve had time to look at all the test results, I’m not comfortable telling either of you what the possibilities are.”

“You could just tell me—”

“You could never keep it from her,” Monica told him, with a light touch on his arm. “I’ll know within twenty-four hours, Jason.”

He swallowed hard, searched his mother’s eyes, saw that she wasn’t going to be moved on this, then nodded and looked back at Elizabeth. “Can you tell me if it’s serious? If—” Jason almost couldn’t form the words. “If it’s—if I might lose her? Or the baby?”

“We should leave that conversation until we know more. I’m not trying to be cryptic, Jason,” Monica told him. “Or purposefully vague. It’s just—there’s no point in thinking of the worst-case scenarios until we need to.”

“I can’t—” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, had to force the words out. “Whatever she needs. Whatever treatment, whatever doctors—you know the cost doesn’t matter. Wherever I have to take her, if we can’t handle it here—I just—I can’t—” He couldn’t finish the statement. But his mother seemed to understand what he couldn’t say out loud.

“Let me finish the procedure, Jason. Let me study the results, and I promise you, as soon as I can tell you something definitive, I will.”

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Hallway**

Justus nearly made into his office without running into Sonny. Bernie wasn’t in today to run interference, as he had done since that terrible night, and Jason hadn’t been in very much since Elizabeth’s health had taken a turn for the worse.

Justus had nearly quit then and there, but after talking it over with Tamika, they’d both agreed he should stay on to see how Jason handled it—and because Justus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to Elizabeth or Carly because he’d left his job. Jason needed someone he could depend on, at least right now, but that didn’t mean Justus was happy about any of this. This was not how this job was supposed to turn out, but he was going to try to make the best of it.

For more than two weeks, he’d managed to avoid Sonny, but as his boss was waiting in front of Justus’s office—it looked like that reprieve was over.

Justus slowed his steps as he approached him. “Uh. Hey, did we have a meeting?”

“No, but we’re going to. Where’s Jason? He wasn’t home when I left, and he’s not picking up his calls,” Sonny said shortly as Justus unlocked the office. Sonny followed him inside.

Not sure if he should be surprised that Jason was keeping Sonny out the loop, Justus sighed, set the briefcase on the desk, then stripped off his jacket. “He had a doctor’s appointment with Elizabeth. Some tests. She needed to be sedated for one of them,” Justus said as Sonny’s scowl deepened, “so he’s not leaving her alone today.” If Jason hadn’t told Sonny about the tests, it wasn’t like he’d passed on the Puerto Rico tip from Johnny either, so he wasn’t going to say anything either.

“Why didn’t I know this? Why does she need to be put to sleep? What’s wrong?” Sonny’s questions were delivered in quick succession, like a round of bullets from a machine gun. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know. To all the above,” Justus added when Sonny opened his mouth again. “Jason didn’t want to get into it. If we need to know, we will. Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” Sonny lifted his chin. “Carly took my kids to the Brownstone almost three weeks ago. She won’t let me see them. Not even on Christmas.”

Justus pressed his lips together, bit back the smart ass remark he’d been about to utter because it certainly wouldn’t help them right now. “Okay.”

“I need _you_ to get me into see them,” Sonny continued, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Carly obviously needs more time to calm down—”

Calm down? Justus turned away from Sonny so he wouldn’t see Justus’s scowling expression. “I can ask Carly if she’d be open to it—”

“I don’t need you to ask—they’re _my_ children. What’s between me and Carly—that’s—” Sonny took a deep breath, and his expression slipped slightly—less controlled. “It’s between us. I should be able to see my kids.”

“Okay,” Justus said. He stepped behind his desk, put his hands on the chair, then looked at Sonny, point-blank. “You want my honest opinion? I mean, you pay me to give you the truth.”

“I do,” Sonny said, suddenly wary.

“If I contacted Carly and asked her to set up a meeting for you to see the kids, she could say no. Then you have two choices — one, accept it. Do what she asked you to do to make it right—I’m sure she’s given you some idea—” Justus waited, and Sonny grimaced, looked away, confirming Justus’s suspicion. “Or two, you can file for custody and demand a court give you visitation. A demand which would be rejected.”

Sonny’s glower was thunderous. “Why?”

“Why?” Justus repeated. He widened his eyes. “Sonny, you locked Carly in a room, then refused to let her out. I heard her screaming myself. You understand there were _witnesses_ —and maybe you think _Jason_ won’t say anything against you—but I’m telling you that Bobbie Spencer will make sure that Elizabeth gets on that stand. And how is _that_ going to go for you?”

Sonny pressed his lips together in a thin, mutinous line. “Not well,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Because Carly’s lawyer will ask Elizabeth if she thinks you’re a danger to the kids—”

“I would never—”

“And all Elizabeth has to do is tell that court that you shoved her when she tried to get your wife free. Then Jason had to break down the door. You are _lucky_ Carly didn’t press charges—that all she did was go to her mother’s and keep the kids away from you.”

Sonny exhaled slowly, but the anger didn’t dissipate. “You’re telling me that Carly can just keep my kids from me, and there’s _nothing_ I can do?”

“There’s plenty you can do,” Justus told him flatly. “You can do whatever Carly told you to do. Or you can find another lawyer because there is no way in hell I am going to demand that woman let you see her children after what you did to her—”

“You’re supposed to be my lawyer—”

“I’m also Jason’s lawyer,” Justus said, “which makes me Elizabeth’s lawyer. I told Jason if it had been _my_ pregnant fiancée you shoved, you’d still be drinking out of a goddamn straw—”

“You have no _right_ to talk to me like this—”

“You pay me to tell you the truth,” Justus cut in sharply. “The truth is that if you think what you did to Carly can somehow be waved away and dismissed without you having to do something to redeem yourself, you’re wrong. No judge in this state is going to give you anything other than a supervised visitation of those boys, if you’re _lucky_.”

Sonny stared at him for a long moment, then slowly, at his sides, his fists unclenched as he nodded. “All right. You—you’re right. I can—” He cleared his throat. “I can see that a court wouldn’t understand how things—how it built to that point—why I could—what I did was wrong—”

“Not just _wrong_ , Sonny. Monstrous,” Justus corrected. “Carly had a dissociative episode, triggering the acute stress disorder she’d mostly resolved because _you_ forced her to relive her trauma. It’s not just that she was upset about being locked up—she literally thought she was back in that room. Do you know what it was like for me to stand in that room and watch that happen? Do you even _remember_ it?”

“I—” Sonny cleared his throat. “I understand—Thank you.” He met Justus’s eyes. “I appreciate the honesty. I need to do more to fix this.”

He left then, and Justus released his first easy breath in weeks. He didn’t think for one minute that Sonny would be willing to do what it might take to actually fix this, but at least he’d been able to stand up to Sonny and get out of it with his self-respect intact.

**Harwin Movie Theater: Concession Stand**

“Um—” Lulu folded her arms, scanned the menu. “I’m gonna get popcorn, ooh, and those little Raisinets—”

“The movie is going to start in like five minutes, Lu,” Dillon said, checking his watch. “Can you just _order_ already?”

“Why don’t you go in and get seats?” Lucas suggested, seeing the irritation flare in Lulu’s blue eyes. He didn’t know what was up with Lu and Dillon these days, but it felt like they were constantly fighting. He wished they’d just break up already.

“Because I can’t save six seats on my own, and Lulu is holding up the _entire_ line—”

“I’ll go save seats with you,” Maxie volunteered quickly. “Come on—” She grabbed Dillon’s arm, started to steer him towards the theater.

“God, you’re so frustrating sometimes,” Lulu muttered. “It’s not like you haven’t seen this stupid movie a thousand times. Who _cares_ if you miss the first five minutes?”

Lucas winced as Dillon turned back with an irritated scowl. Lulu was the reason they were running late in the first place after a shift had run over at Kelly’s that morning, and they’d been lucky to get tickets to the matinee at all. It was the last chance they’d have to go to their monthly movie, and it’d been Dillon’s turn. He’d gone for a Joan Crawford movie Lucas had already forgotten the name of.

“Why can’t you _ever_ care about the things that are important to me?” Dillon demanded, yanking his arm away from Maxie. “I told you—”

“It’s a _movie_ , Dillon. It’s not that serious, and it’s not my fault! I told you I needed the tips from today’s shift, and I can’t just hope another waitress will give them to me—I had to wait—” Lulu stabbed a finger at him. “You don’t have to work for anything, so you don’t get it!”

“Oh, here we go—‘I don’t understand money’—” Dillon rolled his eyes. “Your brother is a prince, Lulu—when have you ever wanted anything?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lulu all but screeched. “That’s _it_! That’s the absolute last thing I’m going to take—”

She spun on her heel and stalked out the door, leaving a crowd of interested parties behind her. Maxie’s face paled as she watched a friend walk away from them _at the movies_. “Dillon, go stop her—”

“No, I’m tired of her acting like _she_ _’s_ the only one with problems—”

“Dillon, look where we are,” Kyle said quietly, touching his shoulder. Dillon stopped, looked at him, then looked around them.

The same group of people they’d been six months earlier, except it had been Brooke storming off, and Georgie noticing she’d left. It was broad daylight, but—

“I forgot,” Dillon said, almost numbly. He looked at Maxie, with panic in his eyes. “How did I forget? I have to get her—” He started forward, but Lucas put up his hand.

“We’ll go—” Lucas said, grabbing Felix by the elbow. “No offense, not really into Joan Crawford. Go to the movie. I’ll text you when we catch up.”

“I’m sorry,” Dillon said again, but Lucas and Felix were already leaving the theater. When they got to the sidewalk, Lucas scanned the area—then sighed in relief when they spied Lulu sitting sullenly on the iron bench by the theater, her arms wrapped around herself. They walked towards her.

“Hey. Uh, we’ll give you a ride home—” Lucas said.

“I almost ran into the park,” Lulu said. She looked at them, a bit blankly. “The bus stop—I’ve done it a thousand times. I’ve been shopping on this street my whole life, and I’ve taken the bus home from Central Avenue like…I’ve _always_ crossed through the park.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “But I didn’t go in.”

“Good—” Lucas looked at Felix, who took out his phone, started texting Maxie. “We just—we had the same thought.” He sat next to his cousin. “What’s up with you two? You were getting along before—”

“I don’t know,” Lulu said with a sigh. “We just—we’re arguing over everything. He doesn’t get it sometimes—sure, Nikolas is my brother, but it’s not like I have a credit card from him. Last year—you know when my parents were gone—I didn’t—I _couldn_ _’t_ ask your mom for things—”

“I know.” Lucas rubbed her arm. “Hey. Come on, I know.”

“I mean, no, I never starved, but it’s not the same thing. I _like_ buying my own clothes, and like, being sort of on my own with money. I work hard. I hate that stupid job, but I try so hard and—” Lulu cleared her throat. “He’s just been mad lately that I’ve been working more, and he has this stupid idea that I’m, like, into Lucky’s partner.”

Felix lifted his brows. “You mean that fine-ass Italian cop always sitting in your section at Kelly’s?”

Lulu peered up at him with a frown. “What?”

“You’re nineteen, Lu. It’s okay to be into other guys. You’re not married.”

“I’m not—” Lulu’s cheeks flushed. “You’re both stupid, and I’m not talking to either of you anymore.”

“You can not talk to me all you want,” Lucas said as he pulled her to her feet. “As long as you let me and Felix drive you home.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Elizabeth pursed her lips as Jason set the tray with the soup and cup of herbal tea in front of her. She tried to sit up more on the bed, and Jason helped move the pillows. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Feeding you soup?” Jason’s smile was genuine as he met her eyes. “I’ve been waiting to get you back for _years_.”

She sighed, reaching for her spoon. “I wish I could eat something else,” she admitted, “but everything hurts, and I think if I put anything else in my stomach, it would not be pretty.” Elizabeth ate a few spoonfuls, then set the utensil down to let herself settle a bit. “How long did Monica say I’d feel like this?”

“A few more hours,” Jason told her. “Your appetite should be back to normal tomorrow.” He crossed to the other side of the bed, then stretched out next to her, sitting up against the headboard and picked up the remote. “You want to find something to watch? A movie?”

“You hate my movies.” Elizabeth peered at him suspiciously. “ _What_ did you and your mother talk about while I was asleep? Am I dying?”

“No,” Jason said, bit a shortly. “And that’s _not_ funny.” He grimaced, setting the remote back on the bedspread. “I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I didn’t—I’m just—this is stupid,” she muttered. She closed her eyes. “I’m just trying to pretend like I had a normal test, and things are fine. But they’re not.”

“I shouldn’t be irritated with you,” Jason said. “And I’m not,” he added. “I just—” He couldn’t get Monica’s face out of his head, this nagging feeling that his mother was just trying to protect him from something devastating.

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth reached over, squeezed his hand. He met her eyes. “I know you’re not mad at me, and you know that I’m not mad at you. Isn’t that the point of marrying someone? So you can be cranky with each other when you wanna be without it being the end of the world?”

“Is that why you’re marrying me?” he asked, with a hesitant smile. “So you can be cranky with someone?”

“I mean, it’s a nice side benefit.” Elizabeth lifted her tea mug to her lips. “But you know I’m marrying you for your money.”

“Oh, right.” He grinned at that, and she snickered. “Guess it’s a good time to tell you about the prenup.”

Elizabeth laughed at that, and he was relieved to see that her eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. “Oh, you are _so_ lucky I’m not actually a gold digger. Justus told me at Christmas he was going to have something for me to sign in a week or two.”

He winced. “I’m sorry—I forgot—”

“Don’t worry.” Elizabeth sat up a bit more. “Justus told me it was for my protection, too. Because a lot of your property and whatnot is all wrapped up with Sonny’s, it would be—he said it would help make things clearer in case we ever need to worry about…” Elizabeth grimaced. “Your estate,” she said quietly. “That if you wrote it down in two places legally, it couldn’t be questioned by the courts or the authorities.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I mean, you get everything, you know that, right? I—” He scratched his forehead. “I have some stuff for Michael, for Emily. I need to update it for Morgan and the baby,” he realized, “but everything else—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about any of this.”

“But we should,” Elizabeth told him. She squeezed his hand. “I asked Justus to put together a will for me, too. I don’t have a lot,” she reminded him, “but my grandparents left me a trust, and I wanted to make sure it can go to my children without any issues. Jason—it’s just—it’s responsible for us to talk about this kind of thing. With my health and your line of work—”

“I know.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “I just don’t want to think about it.”

“Me either. And we won’t. Justus will put together the prenup and my will, we’ll sign it. And that’ll be it. We won’t have to talk about it again.”

“Okay.” He leaned over, kissed her forehead. “Besides. I know why you’re marrying me.”

Elizabeth smirked. “Yeah, for your bike.” He laughed at that—because of course, that was _exactly_ what he’d been about to say.

And if even if they were both still worried about her test results, at least they could forget them for a little while.


	19. Chapter Sixty-Nine

_I'd take another chance, take a fall_  
 _Take a shot for you_  
 _And I need you like a heart needs a beat_  
 _But it's nothing new, yeah, yeah_  
 _I loved you with a fire red_  
 _Now it's turning blue, and you say_  
 _Sorry like the angel heaven let me think was you_  
 _But I'm afraid_  
 _It's too late to apologize, it's too late_  
\- Apologize, OneRepublic f. Timbaland

* * *

_Wednesday, December 31, 2003_

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Emily closed her eyes and sighed in deep happiness. “ _That_ might be the best cake I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.”

“You’re just saying that because it’s chocolate,” Elizabeth replied as she took the chocolate cake sample from Emily and cut her own small piece of it.

“No, that will change lives. It _might_ even cure cancer—”

“All right, _now_ you’re being dramatic—” Elizabeth almost moaned as the fudge chocolate touched her tongue. “Oh my _God_ —”

“Ha.” Emily looked at her watch. “I thought you said Bobbie was coming.”

“She was supposed to, but—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “She might have got stuck at work.” She reached over with her fork. “Gimme more—”

“Uh huh, get your _own_ cake—” Emily lifted the plate away from her. “Should we even bother with the other types?”

“That depends.” Elizabeth leaned back. “Hey, Jason, do you care if I pick fudge chocolate or lemon chiffon for the cake?”

“What?” Jason emerged from the kitchen, a cup of herbal tea in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He frowned as he set both on the coffee table. “Is that second one even food?”

“See, he _thinks_ he doesn’t care—give him some of that chocolate—” Elizabeth gestured to Emily, who was protecting what was left of the sample.

“No, ma’am, this is my cake. I have an overnight shift tonight, and I deserve it—”

“It’s my wedding cake—don’t make me come over there—”

“Fine,” Emily grunted and picked a tiny sliver off the cake with her fork and held it out to her brother, who seemed mildly amused by the entire exchange. “Here.”

Jason took the fork from her and ate it. “It’s fine.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Elizabeth grunted as she sipped her tea. “The wedding’s off.”

“Uh huh.” He handed his sister the fork and leaned over to kiss the top of Elizabeth’s head. “You okay here for a little while? I need to check on some things at the warehouse.”

“Yeah, Monica said she probably wouldn’t know anything for a few more hours, and Emily’s doesn’t have work until later—”

“Not until I have figured out how to bathe in this cake,” Emily said, forcing a smile, not wanting to bring down Elizabeth’s good mood by lingering too long on the subject of her test results.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a bit.” He hesitated again, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She reached over to the side table, took out a bottle of pills and counted out two, and picked up the glass of water. Only after she’d taken them did Jason leave.

Emily pursed her lips, looked after her brother. “What was _that_ about?”

“Oh. Monica increased the dosage of my blood thinners. I take two around lunch, then one before bed. It’s a new schedule, and Jason doesn’t want me to mess them up.”

“What, does he think you’re an idiot? How do you not want to smack him? You’re an adult, you know how to take medication—”

“It bothered me when I got out of the hospital in July,” Elizabeth admitted. “We weren’t even living together yet, and he was _always_ asking me about my medicine, but I realized—” She hesitated. “He can’t do anything about—” She gestured at her body. “Any of this. Literally, the only thing he _can_ do is remind me about the medicine, make sure I eat—it’s just—it’s how he’s coping with it.”

“Oh.” Emily sat back, frowning, “And it’s okay with you? I mean, I’m sure it comes from a good place, but—”

“It _used_ to drive me up the wall—but then I had that panic attack and hyperventilated when we slept together for the first time, and it hit me that night—what he’d gone through that day when I almost died. Yeah, _I_ almost did the dying, but he had to watch.” Elizabeth lifted a shoulder. “And I’m lucky, too. A lot of guys—maybe most—would have found hyperventilating after sex to be a huge turnoff.”

She picked up the lemon chiffon and smiled slightly. “That was never a problem for him. I guess it’s just how you look at it. Jason will never be into PDA or be one of those guys who make those huge romantic gestures. Not like the movies. He shows it in other ways. Like irritating me over my medicine or drowning me in water.”

“That’s you know when you put it that way, it is sweet,” Emily admitted. “And I’m glad you can see it that way.” She bit her lip. “You—you’re handling things okay. I expected you to be climbing the walls.”

Elizabeth used her fork to cut herself a piece of the sample. “I was worse yesterday,” she admitted. “But I’ve been resting the last three weeks, and today I do feel a bit better. Also, I’m trying to focus on the good things. Like scheduling the fitting for my wedding dress next week, and making sure that the hotel gets decorated—” She sighed at the lemon cake. “Picking out my cake. Damn it. This is good, too.”

“Lemme see—” Emily reached over with her fork, then slid the bite into her mouth. “Oh, God. That is— _how_ are we supposed to pick?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and considered both cake samples. “You know, I bet Jason wouldn’t even blink if I ordered both.”

“That is the _best_ idea you’ve had all day.”

**Central Avenue: Sidewalk**

Tamika was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she and Justus approached the storefront, where her sister was waiting with a big smile on her face.

“This is better than Philly,” Portia declared as they reached her. She beamed as Tamika unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Philly was a wing and a prayer—this place— _this_ is where we take over the world!”

She all but danced inside, turning in big sweeping turns as her older sister watched her.

“What do you think?” Tamika asked, turning to Justus. “I mean, I know the location is perfect, but—”

“This is great,” Justus told her. He looked around, lifted his head to look at the high ceilings. “I think your sister has a great point. Opening another branch, in this area of the city where the hotels and tourists are—this is definitely a good step. I mean, I know it’s not Fifth Avenue in New York,” he teased.

“Oh, _that_ is next,” Portia declared as she danced over to them. “And to my favorite brother-in-law who pulled all the strings and favors to get us this location—” She gave him a big smack on the lips. “ _Favorite_ brother-in-law,” she repeated with a huge grin.

“ _Only_ brother-in-law,” Justus reminded her dryly.

“And get your _own_ man, girl—” Tamika playfully shoved her sister. “This is a big town—”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. While y’all were boring at home last night,” Portia said, “I hit the town. I went to that club you told me about—the blues club?”

“Oh, yeah, Luke’s. It’s owned by an old friend of mine.” Justus glanced at Tamika, who sighed and nodded, knowing the history Justus shared with Luke and Laura Spencer, and the tension between them all after Laura had been tried for murdering Damian Smith when Justus had actually killed him.

“You didn’t tell me you met anyone.” Tamika wiggled her brows. “Spill! What’s the tea?”

“Oh, he is a _gorgeous_ hunk of a man,” Portia sighed, dreamily, putting her hands under her chin and fluttering her eyelashes. “Not a bad dancer either—he invited me back tonight for New Year’s—apparently the club throws a real bash.”

“Second date already. _Nice_ —”

Justus was only half-listening to his wife and her sister as he wandered over to a counter and peered underneath, but then he heard something that chilled him down to the bone. He straightened. “ _What_ did you say his name was?”

Portia turned and blinked at him, then her eyes widened. “Oh! You probably know him since you used to be the DA here, right? He was—still is—a cop—his name is Marcus—”

“Oh.” Justus closed his eyes, grimaced. “ _Tell_ me you’re not talking about Marcus Taggert—”

“That’s his name.” Portia turned back to her sister. “Doesn’t sound like a delicious name? Mm—”

“Hell,” Justus muttered. Maybe Taggert would screw this up, and he’d never, _ever_ have to socialize with the man. He scowled. Just his luck.

**Brownstone: Living Room**

Carly laid Morgan on his back in the middle of the living room, then grinned up at Michael, who was reaching for one of the dangling toys hanging from the arch that rose over Morgan’s body.

Her two-month-old son giggled, shook his little fists, and rocked back and forth. He wasn’t quite ready to roll over yet, but Carly was just enjoying this moment—she’d missed so much of Michael’s first year and was relieved to be able to have this with Morgan.

“I’m late,” Bobbie said with a sigh as she fastened a bracelet and walked past them. “I was supposed to be at Elizabeth’s for the cake thing an hour ago.”

“Elizabeth will understand,” Carly said as she tickled the bottom of Morgan’s feet. “You were vomited on at the hospital, and if the soap in the staff bathroom is anything like the one in the patient showers, it makes complete sense that you came home to shower.”

“I know. I meant to call, but I kept getting distracted, and now—” Bobbie planted her hands on her hips, grinning down at the trio. “Is that my baby thinking about rolling over?”

Morgan tried to turn his head towards his grandmother’s voice, shaking his fist.

“Getting distracted again, Mama—”

“Shoot,” Bobbie muttered. She went over to the table to grab her purse, then scowled as she caught sight of something out the window. “Michael, why don’t you go to your room and play that video game I bought you for Christmas? The little one that fits in your hand?”

Michael frowned. “Grammy—”

Bobbie turned to look at Carly with trepidation, before looking at Michael. “Humor me, baby. Just for a little while—”

“ _Okay_ ,” Michael said, climbing to his feet and shooting his grandmother a look of confusion over his shoulder as he went down the hallway towards his room. Carly got to her feet, then picked Morgan up.

“Mama—” She followed her mother’s gaze, then swallowed hard as she saw Sonny striding towards the Brownstone door. “Oh, _why_ is he here?”

“I don’t know. I saw him pull up and thought it might be better if Michael were—”

Carly hurried over to set Morgan in his bassinet, then set the stuffed animal with him so that she could join her mother in the foyer. She wasn’t afraid of sending Sonny away on her own—

But she was glad she wouldn’t have to. She knew from Jason that Sonny had not sought out any type of help, and the more time passed, the more likely Sonny would somehow make this Carly’s fault—

He was _always_ good at blaming everything on her.

Bobbie pulled open the door even before Sonny could knock. “Why are you here?” she demanded.

Sonny scowled, looked past his mother-in-law at Carly. “Well, for one thing, you wouldn’t let me see my kids at Christmas—”

“I told you, you were welcome to come over if Jason was with you. You said you didn’t need a babysitter, and that was the end of it.” Carly folded her arms. “Anything else?”

“I want to see the boys. Today.” Sonny flicked his eyes at Bobbie. “We need to talk about this like adults. _Without_ your mother—”

“You can go straight to—”

“Mama.” Carly stepped up beside her mother. “Go into the living room. Just for a minute. Sonny’s not staying.”

Bobbie pursed her lips, then with a huff, walked into the living room to check on Morgan. Carly blocked Sonny’s view into the rest of the house. “Have you made an appointment with a therapist yet?”

“I don’t _need_ to talk to anyone,” Sonny told her. “Look—I get it. I know it was wrong—it was _terrible_ what I did. And I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I thought—I thought we could talk about security changes, so you don’t feel trapped.”

Carly closed her eyes, shook her head. “I don’t need any security changes. I’m fine where I am. You need to sort yourself out so that what happened a few weeks ago—what happened last summer—never happens again—”

“I just need my wife to give me a little bit of understanding and forgiveness,” Sonny cut in, his tone clipped. “Haven’t I always forgiven _you_?”

Carly stared at him for a long time. “This isn’t about what I’ve done wrong,” she said slowly, “or mistakes that I’ve made. You don’t get to use those when we’re talking about what happened. I broke your trust, and you chose to forgive me.”

“You’re not doing the same for me—”

“You didn’t just break my trust, Sonny—” Her voice strangled. How did he not understand— “You broke _me_.”

Sonny swallowed hard. “I know—”

“No, you _don_ _’t_ know. I told you that I am _afraid_ of you, Sonny—” He flinched. “When I look at you, I don’t see my husband or a father—I see the man who locked me in a room and—now—the nightmares just aren’t about Ric,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word. “They’re about you. And what you did. What you might do _again_.”

“I—” Sonny said nothing for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. Okay. So you need more time—”

“I don’t need time, Sonny, I need _you_ to fix this—”

“And I will when Ric Lansing is gone, and I know my family is safe,” Sonny snapped, his eyes crackling with anger. “You promised you’d stay until he was found—you broke my trust, again, and now—I’m willing to forgive that—” His words were coming faster now, and she wasn’t even sure if he believed them.

“I’m closing the door,” Carly said. “Don’t come back again.”

Quietly, she shut the door on his face, in the middle of his declaration that they were _both_ wrong, and both of them needed to fix things. Carly leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes.

Behind her, Bobbie stepped up, put her hands on Carly’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, baby. But I’m so proud of you.”

“You should—” Carly took a deep breath, turning to face her mother. “You should get going. Elizabeth is expecting you—”

“I’ll call her. She’ll understand that you need me right now. You did the right thing, Carly.”

“I know.” Carly’s smile wavered but didn’t fade. “I just wish it didn’t feel like this.” She pressed her hands to her eyes, waited a moment. “Okay. I’m going back to be with my boys. You want to get pizza for dinner? I think I deserve it.”

 **Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason** **’s Office**

“Have you heard back about the tests?” Justus asked as he slid a contract across the desk towards Jason. “Or are you still waiting?”

“Still waiting.” Jason checked the clock on his desk. Nearly four. “But Monica said it would be today.” He scribbled his name at the bottom. “How much more do we need to do? Emily had to leave for her shift at three, and I don’t want Elizabeth alone at the penthouse for long.”

Justus raised his brows, sat back in his chair. “Because of how she’s been feeling lately or because of who lives across the hall?”

Jason tensed, set the pen down, and raised his eyes to meet his cousin’s direct gaze. “What does _that_ mean?”

“It means that Sonny came to the office yesterday, wanting me to file for custody of the boys. To demand visitation rights.” Justus rubbed his chin. “And I told him if it went to court, no judge in the world would give him anything other than supervised visits.”

It was too much to hope that Jason would be able to avoid having this conversation or dealing with Sonny’s crap for a few more days. He put his head in his hands, took a deep breath. “What did he say to that?”

“He seemed to understand, then suggested Carly just needs more time and space.” Justus tipped his head. “Time and space, Jason. That’s what Carly needs. I, uh, get the feeling that he thinks Carly is being a bit _unreasonable_.”

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t _need_ this right now,” he muttered.

“No, I know that. And if you didn’t live across the hall from him, I wouldn’t say anything. But how long do you want us to keep Puerto Rico from him?” Justus asked. “Johnny knows about it. His guys know about it. There’s a grapevine with this kind of thing. And then once he does finds out about Puerto Rico—”

“It’ll start all over again, except now Carly is at the Brownstone where Sonny can’t…”

“Lock her up?”

“Don’t—” Jason stopped because, of course, Justus was right. With Carly and the boys out of Sonny’s control and holding firm to her demand that Sonny get help before she’d come back—that meant Jason would be getting the brunt of Sonny’s crap.

As would anyone around him.

“What do you think I should do?” Jason asked. He scowled. “I mean, you obviously want me to do _something_ , Justus. What should I do? Tie him up? Make him go to get professional help? Throw him in a pit? What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” Justus’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I just know that I’m not happy that Sonny is starting to create a narrative where _he_ _’s_ not the bad guy. As far as he’s concerned, he just made a mistake. Right now, he’s keeping his distance from Carly, not really forcing things—what happened when he decides he’s not wrong, but she is?”

“I’ll talk to him.” Jason got to his feet. “But there’s not much else I can do. The shipments are running on schedule. Tommy and Johnny aren’t reporting any issues from their end. Right now, what’s happening with Sonny is personal. Which makes it _his_ problem to fix, not mine. I got Carly out, didn’t I? And I haven’t said she should go back. And—” He hesitated. “Cody has orders not to let Sonny into the penthouse unless I’m there. What are you looking for?”

“I guess that’s enough.” Justus also stood. “I don’t want you to have to deal with this either,” he said. “You got your own life to live, Jason. Your own family—”

“I know what I—” He scowled, looked down at his phone when a text message flashed on the screen. He picked it up, flipped it open to see Elizabeth’s name with a message attached.

_monica coming over._

He sent her a quick reply that he’d be home shortly, then closed his phone, sliding it into his back pocket. “I know what my responsibilities are,” Jason told his cousin. “Elizabeth and our son are at the top. I have to go.”

 **PCPD: Commissioner** **’s Office**

Anna scowled as she set down the phone and glared at the mayor as he walked into her office. “Is your source screwing with us?” she demanded. She got to her feet and folded her arms. “Three sightings, and not a _single_ piece of evidence to back any of them up—”

Ned glanced at Taggert, who seemed mystified at Anna’s irritation. “Uh, I don’t think my source would mess with me on this.” He furrowed his brow, set his coat over the back of the chair. “It’s been twenty-four hours—maybe they’re just missing him—”

“I could believe that in Caracas, but Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory,” Anna reminded them. “It’s not as easy as you think to smuggle in and out of there—especially from Venezuela. It’s not a market for undocumented immigrants, so there’s less human trafficking—there’s simply no evidence that Ric Lansing ever entered the country or left. Are you absolutely _sure_ that your source isn’t wasting our time?”

“I am _positive_ ,” Ned said, “that my source would see no point in screwing with you. He wouldn’t lie to me—”

“Is it Morgan?” Taggert said idly, tipping his head at the mayor. “He’s your cousin—”

“You think Jason Morgan is working with the PCPD?” Ned said with a scoff. He shook his head. “He wouldn’t. And he’s got enough problems on his plate right now. Sonny and Carly are separated—again.”

Anna pursed her lips, then sat down. “My contacts at Interpol are a bit unhappy with me that I keep passing them information that is nothing more than some guy saw someone somewhere,” she told Ned. “They’re not going to be willing to look into another tip like that. _Not_ after three failures.”

“Fair enough.” Ned hesitated. “Why would anyone go to the trouble of screwing with me or Interpol?”

“Well,” Anna said, “for one thing, if Ric Lansing is dead, then you can throw off the scent by planting a false trail.”

Ned sat down, a bit heavily at that news. Taggert sat in the chair next to him. “You’re not looking at Sonny or Jason over this, are you?”

“When I looked at the case last month, everyone seemed quite sure that they wouldn’t have done Lansing in at this point—months ago, yes, but not the week before the trial.” Anna leaned back in her chair, tapping her pencil. “I was willing to agree—to a point. But nearly two months in, and all we have are unsubstantiated sightings? Not a _single_ piece of physical evidence? I think Lansing is dead. And I think that obviously Sonny and Jason have done a decent job at rehabilitating their image if you’re so convinced they wouldn’t do this—”

“I never said they _wouldn_ _’t_ do this,” Taggert said with a scowl. “I said they _didn_ _’t_. There’s a difference, Anna. And—judging from the way Sonny Corinthos has treated his wife since their kid was born, if Sonny doesn’t think Ric is out there, waiting to come after his family, then either he’s crazy as hell or incredibly cruel.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. “Explain,” she ordered.

“I don’t know what went down after the hearing,” Taggert said, looking at Ned for a minute before looking back at Anna when the mayor didn’t offer to fill in any blanks. “I just know that Carly was staying at the penthouse after the baby was born, then was back at the Brownstone after the hearing. And judging from the way she came back—and the way her things were moved back in—it was _not_ planned. And Sonny has shown up a few times, trying to convince Carly to go back.”

“That also might be Carly learning that Sonny lured her to move back in with a lie,” Anna said, “then somehow learned he had already gotten rid of Ric. She’d likely leave him over that, wouldn't she?”

“Possibly,” Taggert admitted.

“But _Jason_ isn’t acting like Ric is dead,” Ned said. “I—I told him the PCPD was shelving the case, and while he was disappointed, he understood. He told me he’s pretty sure Lansing is in South America—”

“Which doesn’t do anything to suggest _I_ _’m_ not right,” Anna pointed out.

“Does Elizabeth still think Ric’s alive?” Taggert asked, looking at Ned. “Is there any way to find that out?”

“Yes. Because Jason knew he’d have to tell her she wasn’t going to get a trial—and before you tell me that he would still think that if he’d killed Ric, let me tell you that _I_ know Jason. You don’t. And he’s not lying to Elizabeth. Not over this. And not right now.” Ned shook his head. “He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar.”

“What’s your read on Morgan?” Anna asked Taggert. “Would he lie to Elizabeth?”

“That’s tricky,” Taggert admitted. Ned scowled, and Taggert shook his head. “Let me clarify. I absolutely don’t think he’d lie to her about Ric. I do think he’d tell her what was really going on, and then _she_ _’d_ lie to _us_ in a heartbeat to protect him.”

He hesitated, looked at Ned. “But—I’m still struggling with the idea that they’d let Ric get that close to trial, knowing Elizabeth and Carly wanted to testify—then get rid of him. I can buy Corinthos doing that, but it’s harder for me to believe Morgan would do that to Elizabeth.”

He looked at Anna. “But let’s take your theory a step further. If Lansing is dead, and someone is trying to plant a false trail—why does it _have_ to be Corinthos and Morgan? Scott said he thought Ric might try to make a deal in exchange for testimony about his father—Scott had already decided against a deal, and I think Ric knew that, but it makes you wonder if maybe Ric had the same idea that Vinnie did.”

“To turn it into a federal case?” Ned asked.

“Zacchara and his lawyer— _they_ had a good reason to want Ric dead, too. And he disappeared from _their_ estate.”

Ned frowned, looked at Anna. “That makes sense. The Zaccharas could be trying to throw off the scent—or making Corinthos and Morgan focus their energies somewhere else. If they’re looking for Ric—”

“They’re not thinking of retaliating against Anthony or Trevor for sending the idiot in the first place.” Anna pursed her lips. “It’s a thought. And it’s one I’m going to start considering. I’d be very interested if your source had any other sightings of Ric and where they might pop up. First—two generic sightings in Caracas.”

She tapped a pencil against her desk. “Then a sighting in Puerto Rico? Near a club that Interpol tells me is likely a front for one of the local organizations? Maybe the Zaccharas are trying to distract Sonny and Jason so they can make their move—and a mob war is the last thing any of us need.”

“Well, on that happy note,” Ned said, wryly, “I should get back to work. Call me if anything changes.”

“Taggert—a moment—” Anna called as the mayor left. Taggert frowned at her. “Capelli was able to get a search warrant for one of the clubs. For tonight.”

Taggert grimaced, then nodded. “Well, I guess he was bound to find the right judge eventually. Why are you telling me?”

“Because I’m sure the memo of recently approved warrants is on your desk as we speak, and I—” Anna pursed her lips. “I would be disappointed if the news reached Corinthos or Morgan—”

“Excuse me?” Taggert demanded. “You think after everything this department has been through, I’d turn dirty—” His blood pounded in his ears. “What the _hell_ —”

“You’ve been very supportive of Corinthos and Morgan—”

“No, I’ve been fucking _objective_ —” Taggert took a deep breath, put a hand up in between them. Forced himself to calm down. “You don’t know me, so you don’t understand how insulting this is. I hate Sonny Corinthos. I don’t like Jason Morgan all that much, either. But I’ve been on this case, watching the two of them from the beginning. I know they’re criminals. I know—”

“I apologize if you’re offended—”

“You don’t _know_ me,” he repeated. “The day we can break the mob for good in this town will be the best day of my career. But I don’t work Organized Crimes anymore _because_ I lost that objectivity. I couldn’t see straight. I thought Corinthos and Morgan were behind all the crimes—all the bad stuff in this city—there’s no way in _hell_ —”

“All right.” Anna sat back. “I’m sorry.”

He hissed, then stormed out of the office, irritated at the world.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Monica was already sitting on the sofa with Elizabeth when Jason got home twenty minutes later. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the desk. Elizabeth didn’t look upset, he noted as he sat down on the other side of her—

“She just got here,” Elizabeth told him, squeezing his hand. “I wanted to wait for you.” She turned back to Monica, keeping Jason’s hand laced through hers. “So?”

“So.” Monica took a deep breath. “I’ll just be direct, all right? You have a condition called chronic thromboembolic pulmonary hypertension.”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at Jason again with a frown. “Thromboembolic,” she repeated. “Like embolism?”

“Pulmonary hypertension,” Jason repeated. “That’s—that’s an issue with the blood pressure in her lungs.”

“Yes. Basically, Elizabeth, you have blood clots in the vessels of your lungs,” Monica explained. “These blood clots probably formed a few months ago—after we stopped scanning in September. The way that this condition works—we call it CTEPH for short—is that they don’t develop or dissolve in the lungs. Instead, they’re in the vessels and create what looks like scar tissue, so even if the clots resolve on their own—”

“They leave damage behind them,” Elizabeth said faintly. “I—how many clots do I have right now?”

“None that are currently active. At least not as of yesterday. I would have treated them through the angiography. But the vessels in your lungs _are_ constricted,” Monica told her. “Which is, in part, why you’ve been having so much trouble breathing. Also, because oxygen isn’t circulating in your blood correctly, it’s making it difficult for your heart to pump normally.”

Elizabeth pressed her free hand to her chest as a tear slid down her cheek, splashed onto the back of Jason’s hand. Jason wasn’t doing well with breathing himself, he realized.

This—this was _so_ much worse than he’d expected. Elizabeth’s lungs were damaged, and her heart wasn’t working—

“What—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. Couldn’t speak.

“What does this mean?” Jason managed. “For Elizabeth—For the baby—”

“Well, there _is_ some good news,” Monica told them. “This type of pulmonary hypertension—CTEPH—it can be cured through surgery. A doctor can basically remove the scar tissue, and you’d be able to make a full recovery.”

Elizabeth’s breath came out in a huge whoosh as her shoulders shook slightly. “Can—when I can I have the surgery?”

Monica pressed her lips together, looked at Jason for a moment, then again at Elizabeth. “It would be impossible to have the surgery while pregnant,” she told her softly.

“I—” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I don’t—what—”

“Kelly and I are researching this now,” Monica told her. “CTEPH is rare—and there haven’t been many case studies of pregnancy with the condition. The few we’ve found—well—” She cleared her throat. “We want to get a full picture of what we’re dealing with before we move forward with a treatment plan.”

“Monica,” Jason said when Elizabeth simply couldn’t speak anymore. “Elizabeth is twenty-three weeks along. What—can we wait—”

“I don’t know,” Monica told him with deep regret. “And of course, Kelly and I both anticipated that Elizabeth would—that you’d both want to explore any and all options that prioritize the baby.”

Jason nodded. “What can we do until you and Kelly know more?” he asked. “Can you—is there medication? Treatment?”

“There aren’t a lot of options for pregnant women,” Monica said. “We want you to continue on the blood thinners. We’ll also want to make sure that you have a healthy balance of nutrition, exercise, and rest. We’ll want to monitor your oxygen levels—”

“I can’t—” Elizabeth struggled to her feet, pushed Jason’s arm away, and walked away—towards the mantel. “I can’t do this right now. I _can_ _’t_ —”

Jason went to her, but hesitated to reach out, to touch her— He looked back at his mother. “Can you maybe write some things down? We’ll look at them later.”

“Of course.” Monica got to her feet. “I’ve spoken to Alan about the case,” she told them. “If there’s anything the hospital needs—I want to be ready. I’m contacting other doctors—particularly the best ones who are certified for the surgery—I’m—” Her voice faltered for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jason told her. He cleared his throat but found he didn’t know what else to say. Elizabeth was still facing away from him, her arms curled around herself.

“I’ll let you two have some time to talk this over,” Monica said. “I’ll be in touch when Kelly and I are ready to talk through some more options, and I’ll get you a list of things you can do in the meantime. For now, just do what you’ve been doing. Resting, eating well, taking care of yourself.”

“We will.”

When the door clicked softly, indicating Monica had left, Jason turned his attention back to Elizabeth. He didn't know what to say to her. He couldn't fix this. He couldn't even promise her it would be okay.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, her eyes almost blank with shock, tears staining her cheeks. “He’s going to take this from me, too, isn’t he?” she asked, her voice so faint he had to strain to hear it. “My baby. My health. My future. _Everything_.”

“No—” Jason’s paralysis broke, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drew her against him tightly, burying his face in her hair. “ _No_ ,” he repeated, roughly. “We’ll get _all_ the doctors. We’ll do anything they tell us. We’ll make sure you and the baby—you’ll have whatever you need. _Whatever_ I have to pay—”

“I just t-thought—” Her body started to shake with the force of her tears. “I thought our baby w-was a m-miracle—t-hat—that we-were finally going to be happy—”

He couldn’t promise her that it would be okay. Couldn’t do anything except hold her as she sobbed. Jason just held her tightly and hoped that it would be enough to get them through this moment, even if he had no idea how to face what was coming next.


	20. Chapter Seventy

_And she says, oh_  
 _I can't take no more_  
 _Her tears like diamonds on the floor_  
 _And her diamonds bring me down_  
 _'Cause I can't help her now_  
 _She's down in it_  
 _She tried her best and now she can't win_  
 _It's hard to see them on the ground_  
 _Her diamonds falling down_  
\- Her Diamonds, Rob Thomas

* * *

_Friday, January 2, 2004_

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Jason rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Elizabeth on the sofa before turning back to the door and Max. “It has to be _right_ now?”

The guard looked pained as he nodded. “Mr. C said if you don’t want to come over, he’ll just head over to the Brownstone himself.”

Jason dipped his head, took a deep breath, and considered throwing Carly to the wolves and telling Sonny to go to hell. “I’ll be over in ten minutes,” he told him. “If that’s not good enough, I—” He just shook his head again, then closed the door without finishing the statement.

Elizabeth forced a smile as he rejoined her on the sofa. “I’m not going to fall apart if you leave me alone for a little while,” she told him. “I’m okay.”

Jason tucked her hair behind her ears, letting his fingertips brush her cheek. “I want to stick close,” he told her softly. “Until we know what we’re dealing with. _I_ _’m_ the one that doesn’t want to go.”

She leaned into his touch, holding his hand against her face. “It’s just across the hall, and you know you don’t want Carly dealing with Sonny any more than she has to right now. Especially since he’s doubling down on not getting counseling.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Yeah, I know, but—”

“The appointment isn’t until this afternoon,” Elizabeth reminded him. “And Emily said she was going to come by with some stuff for the hotel and the reception.” She bit her lip. “I’ve been putting her off about my results. We haven’t really said if we’re going to talk to anyone or say anything—”

“You can tell Emily,” Jason told her. He couldn’t imagine saying anything to Sonny about it at this point—

“I was actually thinking…” Elizabeth said hesitantly, “that we don’t really know what Kelly or Monica are going to say, and I don’t know that I want to deal with a lot of questions, you know?” She twisted her engagement ring. “And…I don’t know. I was just…going to keep waiting to talk to her about it.”

“If that’s easier for you, then that’s fine with me. We’ll…” He wanted to tell her it would be okay, but he couldn’t understand how. If Elizabeth had a condition that was damaging her heart and lungs—how would they get through the rest of her pregnancy? She still had almost four months before the baby was due—

Would they deliver early? Was it possible the baby might not even make it? And what did it mean for Elizabeth if they waited to have the surgery?

Could either of them survive losing the baby now, after everything else?

“Go over and talk to Sonny. If he needs you to do something, then do it. I’m going to try to keep my mind off it,” she told him. “Maybe you could go see Carly or something. You haven’t really seen her since I started to feel worse.”

And maybe Elizabeth wanted a little space and wasn’t sure how to ask him for it. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He squeezed her hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kissed her before getting up and walking towards the door, then looked back—he hadn’t left her since Monica had given them the news, not wanting to let her out of his sight—but she was right. They both needed to find a way to distract themselves until they knew more about what was coming next. He finally pushed himself to leave and walk over to the other penthouse.

“Thank God,” Max said as Jason approached. “He’s been…uh…” The guard wrinkled his nose. “Annoyed.”

“Yeah, well…” Jason shoved open the door. “He’ll have to get over it.” His number one priority was his family—Elizabeth and their son—and if Sonny didn’t like that, Jason would take Elizabeth somewhere where the business and Sonny Corinthos couldn’t make things worse. If there was a chance he could save them both, he was going to do whatever had to be done.

He wasn’t going to lose her or their son. Not without a fight.

“It’s about time,” Sonny said from the sofa. He got to his feet. “Where the _hell_ have you been all week? Bernie says you haven’t been down at the warehouse—you haven’t checked in with me—” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Things are slow at work, and if Bernie needed me, he and Justus know how to call me.” Jason shoved his hands into his jeans. “So what’s the problem? What did you want?”

“It’s been three weeks,” Sonny said. “I need you to talk some sense into Carly.” He waved his hand. “Whatever you normally do.”

Jason squinted. “Like what?” he asked, his tone clipped. “What _sense_ are you looking for?”

“She refuses to accept my apology. I mean—” Sonny scowled. “She acts like I _wanted_ to hurt her—like I _knew_ it would make her—” He grimaced. “I didn’t know. And I’m tired of everyone treating me like I did it on purpose.”

“Sonny—” Jason exhaled slowly, trying to find the patience to deal with this. “You locked her in your bedroom. You did _that_ on purpose—”

“I was—” Sonny met his eyes. “You know how I get. _She_ knows how I get. I’m okay now. I—I took a break. I took space. I gave her time. What does she want from me? Blood? I’ll give her that—I didn’t _mean_ to hurt her—”

“You locked her in your bedroom,” Jason repeated. “If you didn’t stop to think about how it makes her feel, then you need to get that under control—”

“I have—”

“No, you haven’t. Because Ric Lansing is still _gone_. He’s still out there, and that means Carly doesn’t know if it will happen again. Because you and I know that you get like that—but you don’t know why. What is this so hard for you to understand, Sonny?” Jason demanded. “You locked her in your bedroom!”

Sonny’s fists clenched at his side. “So you’re not going to help me—”

“Unless the help you want is arranging to get professional help without anyone knowing, no,” Jason said flatly. “I’m not. I don’t have the time for this, Sonny. I have other things going on—”

“Yeah, because you having a wedding is _really_ more important than finding Ric Lansing and making sure my family is safe—”

Jason had already pulled open the door when Sonny threw out that shot, and he knew that Max had overheard the statement by the way the guard was staring straight forward, trying to look like a statue.

He turned back to look at Sonny. Once, his friend would have seen something was wrong and offered advice, offered help. But that felt like another lifetime.

“ _Your_ family is safe,” Jason told him. “And yeah, you know, _my_ family _is_ more important right now. Don’t call me again about this. I won’t come.”

**Kelly** **’s: Dining Room**

Dante strode through the entrance of the diner, determined to shake off the last few weeks, and put it behind him. Sonny Corinthos was still his father, but as far as Dante could tell, only he, his grandmother, and his mother knew the truth, so he was going to shove that out of his head, too.

He found his partner sitting at the counter, sipping a cup of coffee. “Hey.” Dante nodded at Lucky, took a seat next to him. “Who’s cooking today?”

“Don, which means you can probably trust anything with meat,” Lucky told him. “I still wouldn’t get the chili—” He winced as he heard something break in the kitchen, followed by a string of curses. “But, uh, you also might want to skip ordering anything that needs to be carried. Try a donut. Or a bagel.”

“Why—” Dante blinked when he heard another crash, then Lulu’s raised tones about how Don was a complete _idiot_ that was just like all the other idiot men out to _ruin_ the world— “Is she okay?”

“No.” Lucky thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No, she is not. She broke up with Dillon over break, and, well,” he gestured towards the kitchen. “You know how Lu is.”

“Yeah.” Dante remembered the first time he’d really talked to her one-on-one when he’d questioned her after Brooke’s attack, and Lulu had immediately started defending everyone she’d ever met, completely convinced Dante was out to get _someone_.

Lulu thought the only way to live in the world was to always be on the offense.

Lucky peered at him over the rim of the cup, raised his eyebrows. “I think you’re supposed to wait two weeks, by the way.”

“Wait two weeks for what?” Dante asked as he picked up the menu, trying to decide what to get for breakfast that wouldn’t get destroyed between the kitchen and the counter.

“They dated for four months,” Lucky continued, “and if I remember this right—you have to wait twenty-five percent of the time they were dating before you can ask her out.”

Dante scowled, slapped the menu down, and glared at him. “ _What_ are you talking about?”

“It’s possible I’m not remembering it right,” Lucky admitted. “Emily and Elizabeth didn’t know I was eavesdropping, and they were talking about some idiot Emily was dating.” He pursed his lips. “One of her _many_ idiots in a _very_ long line of disasters.”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“Maybe it’s half the time.” Lucky counted on his fingers. “No—sixteen weeks is four months—no, you know what—it _is_ twenty-five percent, but I did the math wrong. I think it’s like three weeks—”

“I don’t give a _damn_ about the math!” Dante interrupted, throwing up his hands. Lucky snickered, picked up his coffee again.

“Who’s complaining about math?” Lulu asked, stepping out of the kitchen. “Because I have to take algebra this semester, and I am going to fail the crap out of it. Lucky—” She fluttered her eyelashes at her brother. “You’re my only hope.”

“Well, then, my dear, you’re screwed.” Lucky turned slightly, set the coffee down. “Hey—that’s Kelsey—I’m gonna go grab her before she comes in. I wanted to ask her something—”

Dante scowled after his partner as Lucky left, leaving him alone with the newly single Lulu Spencer and his stupid three week rule.

“He’s a turd,” Lulu muttered. She looked at Dante, picked up her order pad. “What do _you_ want?”

Dante just raised his brows, and then she sighed. “I’m sorry. I hate men today. Not specific men because you’re, like—” She wiggled her fingers at him. “ _You_ _’re_ fine. But men in general, because I ask you, Dante…why are men?”

“Why are men…” Dante furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Exactly.” Lulu sniffed. “You want your usual?”

“You give me a headache sometimes,” he told her bluntly.

“There’s a lot of that going around,” Lulu replied with a shrug. “Western omelet?”

“Uh—no, bagel with lox,” he told her, scratching his forehead. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Lulu nodded firmly. “I’m fine.” She narrowed her eyes into slits. “Why? Did someone tell you I’m _not_?”

“You know, I’m just not going to talk anymore,” Dante decided. He slid the menu over to her.

Lulu sighed, counted to ten, then looked at him. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m not having a great week. Dillon and I broke up, and I can’t figure out why I’m mad because _I_ did the dumping, and I should have done it _weeks_ ago.”

She huffed. “It’s just stupid. We had a dumb fight in the movie theater over absolutely nothing, then he tried to apologize, but, like what’s the point?” Lulu turned to put his order in, before turning back to Dante. “We’ll just have the exact same argument in two weeks. And eventually, we’ll hate each other. Better to dump him now before we end up really hating each other.”

Lulu wiggled her shoulders as if casting off the topic. “How were your holidays? I bet they were worse than mine because if there’s anything worse than men, it’s family.” She pursed her lips. “No, wait, I think I talked you into going, so I hope they were better—”

“You know…” Dante exhaled slowly. “They were terrible,” he admitted. “I’m just glad they’re over.”

“Amen.” Lulu peered past him out the window. “Hey, what did Lucky want with Kelsey—” She slapped his shoulder with the order pad. “You think he’s proposing?”

“Uh—in the courtyard? In the freezing cold? Do you think Lucky would be _that_ dumb?”

“He proposed to Elizabeth in an arcade,” Lulu told him seriously, “so yeah, he would be dumb, because, and here, we circle back to my thesis of the day—men are the worst, and women would be better off without them.”

“You know, _I_ _’m_ a man,” Dante told her. “As you noted earlier.”

“Fair point.” Lulu studied him for a moment, narrowing her eyes as if he were under a microscope. “You know, maybe it’s not men that are the problem. It’s boys. Boys who don’t grow up. You’re not a boy.”

“I’m going to quit while I’m ahead because I think you almost complimented me,” Dante told her, feeling a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “And I probably can’t top that today.”

Lulu grinned at him, then went to get his breakfast order. He picked up his coffee. Three weeks.

Well, maybe.

**The Cellar: Office**

Jason didn’t often come to Carly’s club, which had never surprised her since she usually had to blackmail him into anything that required him to dress up and be around people. So when he appeared in the doorway of her office that morning, Carly was surprised.

That surprise quickly melted into worry as she took in his pinched expression and worn out eyes. He looked so tired. Carly got to her feet. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Jason shook his head, then closed the door behind him. “I just—I haven’t seen you since Christmas.” He crossed over to the bassinet where Morgan was napping, adjusted the blanket. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she said warily. She sat down again, folded her hands on the desk. “I saw Kevin a few days ago, and he wrote me a prescription for anxiety meds.”

“Yeah?” Jason looked at her, then sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Are they working?”

“I don’t know. Kevin said they might take some time to kick in.” She raised her brows. “What’s really wrong? Is it Sonny?”

Jason winced. “No.” He paused. “No. Not exactly. A few days ago, he apparently asked Justus about getting visitation rights. Or custody. I can’t remember what Justus said. And I just—wanted to warn you.”

Carly sighed, leaned back in the chair. “Yeah, he showed up at the Brownstone on Tuesday, wanting to see the boys. I told him he could see the boys any time he wanted—as long as you were in the room with him. I’m sorry,” she added when Jason just shook his head. “I shouldn’t put you in the middle of it, I just—I _knew_ he’d never ask you—”

She stopped, then cleared her throat. “What did Justus tell him? About getting visitation?”

“That there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d get more than supervised visits,” Jason said bluntly. “Which is probably true. He wanted me to talk to you, to convince you to forgive him.”

“Yeah, he’s starting to turn this into my fault,” Carly said wryly. She got to her feet and walked over to Morgan, just to look at him. She folded her arms. “Reminding me of _all_ the times he’s forgiven me. I knew—” She shook her head. “I knew if he didn’t get help the first time I asked him—when it was fresh—he never would.”

“I’m sorry. I told him I agreed with you.” Jason twisted in the chair, then got to his feet. “I don’t know what else I can do.”

“There’s nothing. Sonny will never change unless he doesn’t have a choice, and if losing me and the boys didn’t do it— I don’t know what will.” Carly frowned at him. “Everything else okay? I mean—I know Sonny is being a pain, but—”

“It’s fine,” Jason said, stepping back, away from her.

Carly narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “No—something isn’t right. Is—is Elizabeth okay? I know you guys are getting closer to the wedding. Is she resting enough? You know, it’s okay if she gets tired—you don’t have to—” She stopped abruptly as Jason looked down at the floor, then back at her. At her face, not her eyes. She remembered Elizabeth’s dizzy spell, and the oxygen she’d needed after the hearing—after helping Carly that night. “Jason.”

“It’s—I can’t talk about it. She doesn’t—” Jason exhaled slowly. “She doesn’t want to talk about it—”

“I’m not asking _her_ ,” Carly said. “And while you know, I don’t hate her guts anymore, _she_ _’s_ not my friend. You are. Just—” She touched his shoulder, hoping he’d meet her eyes. “Is it the baby?”

“I don’t—it’s not—” Jason grimaced. “It’s not that simple. And I can’t get into it—”

“But there is _something_ ,” Carly said softly. “And it’s bad.”

Briefly—their eyes met, and she inhaled sharply. “Jason—” He looked away.

“We’re—I _can_ _’t_ get into it.” He hesitated. “Even if Elizabeth was ready to talk about it, I don’t know if I can.”

“Okay,” she said. She swallowed hard. “Does Mama know?”

“No. No one—I told you, Elizabeth isn’t—we still don’t—” Jason grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“You _haven_ _’t_ said anything. But I know you better than you think I do.” She sighed. “Okay. I won’t bug you about it. Just—I love you. And I hope it all works out. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will.” He hesitated. “I have to get going. I have—I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Okay.” Carly wanted to hug him, but Jason slipped out of her office before she could reach out.

**General Hospital: Waiting Room**

Elizabeth felt like she was walking in a fog. At some point, on the day Monica had delivered her diagnosis, Elizabeth’s tears had dried up, and she’d just faded away. She had tried to get through each day since, tried not to worry Jason, but she was just encased in a thick cloud that kept everything out.

Emily had pressed her on the test results that morning, but Elizabeth hadn’t told her. Couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t say anything out loud. She’d been relieved when Jason had left that morning, exhausted by pretending that she was better than she was, and was barely up to fooling Emily.

She just wanted this over with. Whatever was going to happen — she wanted it _done_.

“Kelly’s calling us in.”

Elizabeth blinked, looked at Jason sitting next to her quietly in the waiting room. “What?”

“For our appointment,” he told her. He rose to his feet, held out his hand. “Come on.”

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“No.” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed. Shook her head. “I can’t.” Something rose in her throat, tried to bubble up, break free, but she just squeezed her eyes even harder. If she moved, it would be real. If she moved, she’d start to feel again.

Couldn’t do it.

“Hey.”

Jason’s voice was quiet, close to her ear—had he sat back down? She didn’t know. His fingers laced through hers, and his hand was shaking as he brought her fingers to his lips. “Hey,” Jason repeated. “You don’t have to do anything right now. You don’t have to move. We’ll stay right here.” Something changed in his voice, shifted, almost as if he couldn’t speak either. “I just need you to breathe. Just _breathe_ for me.”

Her chest was tight, her lungs were burning—Oh, God, she’d actually held her breath without realizing it—

She parted her lips on a gasping breath, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I _can_ _’t_ go in there.”

“We won’t. We’ll stay right here.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, then turned to find Jason sitting next to her, her hand enveloped in both of his, pressed against his chest. His eyes were red. “I can’t—she’s going to tell me I can’t have my baby—that he won’t be okay and I can’t— _I can_ _’t_ —I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m trying to be okay, and I’m not—”

Jason looked so lost, and it was maybe the first time she could remember when he had nothing to say. He couldn’t tell her it wasn’t true, couldn’t reassure her—he didn’t know. And to see this man—who _always_ seemed to know what was next—not know what to do—

“I’m not okay, either,” he finally said, his voice low and rough. “I don’t want to lose this baby, but I can’t lose you. I _can_ _’t_ —” He stopped, shook his head, looked away.

Listening to the break in his voice—Elizabeth dragged in as deep a breath as she could manage. With her free hand, she reached across to touch his face, to gently brush away a tear on his cheek. “We’re a mess.”

He laughed then, just a short sound that lifted her spirits. “It’s one more thing I can’t fix,” he told her, meeting her eyes. “If I could—”

She loved him so much. And it wasn’t fair to always expect him to carry her. “I know. So we’ll—” She forced a smile. “We’ll just have to muddle through it together. Sitting out here isn’t going to help anything, is it?”

“Can you go in?” Jason asked her. “If you can’t—we’ll find some other way—”

“No. We need—” Elizabeth squeezed his hand, started to stand. Jason stood, then braced her elbow. “We need to do this. Promise me—” She put her hand on his forearm, just below his elbow, searched his eyes. “ _Promise_ me if there’s a way that we can still—that the baby—”

“I promise you that we will do whatever we can to save you both,” Jason told her. It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted, but she knew she’d never get anything else from him.

“All right. Then let’s go see we’re up against.”

Kelly and Monica were talking quietly when Jason and Elizabeth made it into the office, and it was the concerned mother in Monica’s eyes as she came over to them. “Are you all right?” she asked, touching Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“Scared,” Elizabeth admitted. “I, um, had some trouble coming in. I’m—” She looked at her OB whose expression was inscrutable. “I’m really nervous.”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. Let’s take a seat and talk about what’s on the table.” Monica gestured to the seats in front of Kelly’s desk then took her normal chair at Kelly’s side. “I’m sorry we’ve had to keep you waiting a few days for this meeting.”

“I’ve had a few patients with hypertension issues,” Kelly told them, “but I’ve never dealt with CTEPH. It’s relatively rare, which means even fewer women with this condition deal with pregnancy.” She glanced at Monica for a moment before refocusing on Jason and Elizabeth. “We wanted to consult with any doctor who has treated a pregnant CTEPH patient, so we can put together the best plan.”

“Can I—” Elizabeth squeezed Jason’s hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just—I _need_ to know.” With her free hand, she touched her belly, felt the baby fluttering. “Can I have this baby?”

“I’m sure that’s at the top of your worries,” Kelly told her. “That’s why Monica and I wanted to get all the answers. We both knew that keeping the baby would be the priority. However—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, braced herself.

“It would be irresponsible of me not to lay out all of your options,” Kelly continued. “So, yes, terminating the pregnancy at this point _would_ be the safest and healthiest thing for you. It would prevent any permanent damage to your heart and lungs and allow you to have the surgery that will likely result in a complete recovery, which means you would be able to have more children in the future.”

“Is that—” Elizabeth couldn’t form the words. Looked at Jason, who took a deep breath and nodded.

“Is that what you think we should do?” Jason asked. “Is that the _only_ option?”

“No. It’s not. I do have to caution you that continuing your pregnancy, Elizabeth, will put a strain on your entire body _and_ risk heart and lung damage that you might not be able to recover from easily, if it all.”

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “But I could continue—I _could_ have the baby.”

“Yes,” Kelly said.

Her head nearly spun from the relief that swept through her body. She didn’t care about anything else. Just her son. She wanted her son.

“What Kelly and I think might be the best way forward is to closely monitor your health—even more so than we have already,” Monica added, “and prepare to deliver the baby early.”

“How—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “ _How_ early?”

“Well, since I know we’ll be looking to maximize the baby’s chance at survival,” Monica said slowly, “we could deliver as early as 28 weeks.”

“Twenty-eight—” Elizabeth faltered. “But—that’s—that’s—it’s not enough time—” She looked at Jason, who seemed stunned at the idea. “That’s _barely_ a month away—” She covered her belly protectively.

“What—what does a baby—I mean, what happens at twenty-eight—” Jason exhaled slowly.

“What if I’m not just trying to maximize the baby’s survival?” Elizabeth asked before Kelly could answer Jason. “What if I want to wait until the baby is…what if I just want to _wait_?” He looked at her, and she knew he wanted to argue with her—knew that it wasn’t the question he wanted to her ask.

But once Kelly had told her she could have her son—

It was the only one that mattered.

“Full-term is forty weeks, delivering on schedule sometime in April,” Kelly said slowly, exchanging a look with Monica. “That’s _not_ going to happen, Elizabeth. You’re already struggling with breathing. The harder it is for you to breathe, the harder it is for your heart and your other organs to get oxygen—”

“But that’s not happening yet, is it?” Elizabeth cut in.

“Elizabeth,” Jason said softly.

“It’s not—I _know_ I have trouble breathing, but oxygen takes care of it, and—you said my oxygen levels were still normal—” Elizabeth swung her attention to Monica. “Why can’t we wait and see how I’m doing? I just—”

“I understand how scary this is, Elizabeth,” Kelly told her. “I promise you, I do. But as your pregnancy develops, the strain and demand on your organs will only increase. And hypertension can also be stressful, even damaging, on the baby’s development. It would be reckless of me to say let’s simply wait and see—”

“But—”

“Waiting until April, Elizabeth, is not an option,” Monica said flatly. Elizabeth pressed her lips together, looked at Jason’s mother, and saw the steel in her eyes. She nodded.

“Okay. What about March?”

Kelly hesitated, looked at something in front of her. “Well, you’ll be at 32 weeks at the beginning of March. Babies born around that time have a ninety-five percent survival rate, and generally need breathing support in the NICU—”

“Breathing support?” She had a vision of her son on a ventilator, gasping for air from the day he was born— “No. I don’t want that—”

“Elizabeth,” Jason said. “That might be the best chance for you both—”

“No,” she repeated. She looked at him. “I can’t watch him—I can’t—please—” She shook her head, looked at Kelly. “How do I avoid the NICU?”

Looking vaguely ill, Kelly grimaced. “You’re looking at closer to thirty-seven weeks, which is not going to be possible. Again, the effect on you—on the baby—”

“Elizabeth, I know how worried you are,” Monica began, “but I really think maybe we need to take some time think about this—”

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Jason told Elizabeth. “We can wait a few weeks, see how you’re feeling—” He squeezed her hand again. “This is good news,” he reminded her. “We thought you might not—that we might not be able to keep the baby.”

“I—” God, she knew what he wanted her to do, but Elizabeth simply couldn’t. She looked away from his pleading expression, back to Kelly. “Let’s split the difference then. Thirty-five weeks.”

“I—” Kelly leaned back, then sighed. “Yes, that would probably increase the chances the baby wouldn’t need a lot of post-natal support, and might spend no more than a night or two in the NICU, but again, I _have_ to remind you—”

“Then thirty-five weeks. That’s the compromise. I’m not—” She looked at Jason, praying for him to see her, to understand. “As long as the baby is okay and not affected by my condition—I can’t—you can’t ask me to sacrifice a minute of my child’s life to make mine easier—”

“That’s not the choice we’re—” Jason bit off whatever he was going to say, shook his head. “What can we do in the meantime?” he asked Kelly. “To keep her and the baby as healthy as possible for as long as we can?”

“What we’ve been doing,” Monica said. “Oxygen as needed, resting, decreasing stress—we’ll need to have appointments every other week to check the baby and the function of the heart and lungs, and probably weekly as we get closer—”

“Whatever I need to do, I’ll do it. I’ll do everything you ask me to.” She met Jason’s eyes. “I _promise_.”

“All right.” Looking resigned, Jason nodded. “All right.”

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

Max stepped off the elevator, and out of habit, looked towards Jason’s penthouse to see if Cody was outside the door — he was, but he was sitting on a stool, reading the newspaper.

“Hey, Jason and Miss Webber aren’t back?” Max asked, digging into the bag of Doritos he’d brought up from his lunch break.

“No.” Cody checked his watch then looked back at his paper. “And they don’t like me to go with them to the appointments.” He eyed Max. “Sonny home?”

“Yeah. He’s not leaving much these days.” Max leaned against the wall. “I should check in with him, make sure he doesn’t need anything.” Instead, he reached into the bag and shoved another nacho cheese chip into his mouth.

Cody raised his brows, closed the paper. “But you’re not?”

“Nope. Last time I made that mistake, he made me drive him to the Brownstone. He got all huffy with Mrs. C and then fired me three times before we got back to the Towers.” Max shook his head. “Don’t ask, don’t get fired, that’s my policy.”

“How much longer do you think this is gonna last?” Cody got to his feet, kicking the stool back into the corner. “This—” He gestured at the hallway. “Do you really think any of this is okay?”

Max hesitated. “Any of what?” he said carefully.

“The way the boss is acting. What happened with Mrs. C.”

“And the way he talks to Miss Webber or Jason?” Max said dryly. “Look, Cody—” He looked back towards Sonny’s penthouse. “Nothing’s been right since Ric Lansing showed up.”

“They should have shot him when they had the chance,” Cody said, darkly. “He never would have hurt Miss Webber or Mrs. C.”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t, and now we’re _all_ miserable. Maybe things will be better after the baby’s here. I’m sure Jason is just wound up all tight because of these doctor appointments. Miss Webber will have the kid, Sonny will get it together. Just like always.” Max squared his shoulders. “All right—I’m gonna go—”

He stopped when the phone in his pocket buzzed. Oh, man, he hoped this wasn’t Sonny. He was not in the mood for another sojourn to the Brownstone, which was the only place Sonny went these days.

“Oh, crap, it’s Tommy,” Max muttered. “He’s probably here about the PCPD raid on New Year’s—”

“I thought they didn’t find anything—”

“They didn’t, but Tommy’s always got his panties in a twist—” Max flipped open his phone. “Hey, Tommy! What’s up? You catch that Bills game—”

“Shut up, Giambetti. I’m in the lobby. Let me up. Wally says you need to clear me. This some bullshit when I gotta be cleared by a glorified fucking _babysitter_ —”

Max pressed the phone to his chest, wincing. “He wants to come up.”

“Well, you got two choices. Don’t let him up, Tommy flips out downstairs and is still throwing a hissy fit when Jason and Miss Webber get back or—”

“Let him talk to Sonny and throw a hissy fit about respect and the old days.” Max scowled. “Those are _terrible_ options.”

“Either way, Tommy throws a tantrum. Better make it Sonny’s problem and not Jason’s.”

“Fine.” Max put the phone back to his ear as Tommy continued to rant. “Lemme talk to Wally.” He cleared the club manager and then closed the phone. “I should have called in sick,” he muttered as he went over to the other penthouse and knocked on the door.

“Yo, Mr. C—” Max opened the door slightly—frowning as he saw Sonny in the same spot he always did — lounging on the sofa with a bourbon. Boss was drinking a lot these days, which did not bode well for anyone. Man, he wished Sonny would do whatever Mrs. C asked him to do so she could come home.

Sonny was always nicer when his family was around.

“Tommy’s coming up. Wants to talk to you about something.”

Sonny frowned, got to his feet, strode towards the doorway. “Yeah? Where’s Jason? It’s his job to handle these things.”

“Uh, I think he’s at the doctor with Miss Webber.” Max glanced over his shoulder to Cody, who was at the elevator. “Right?”

“Yeah, they had a doctor’s appointment or something—”

“He just went a few days ago—damn it, do I have to do _everything_ around here?”

Max frowned because Sonny had done nothing for weeks, and Cody barely hid a snort. He threw his fellow guard a dirty look. The _last_ thing they needed was for Sonny to see Cody’s disrespect.

The doors opened, and Tommy strode out, a barrel-chested man who’d been in the business for nearly two decades—first with the Jeromes, then Frank Smith, and had been managing Sonny’s clubs and the bookies since Smith’s death. He had no patience for anyone and was Max’s _least_ favorite person in the world.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” Tommy demanded. “The PCPD raids my club on the biggest fucking drinking night of the year, and you don’t check in?” He glared at the boss, who scowled right back at him. “Where the hell have you _been_?”

Sonny pressed his lips together as he stood in the doorway, but Max hadn’t missed the flare of confusion—Sonny hadn’t known about the PCPD raid, which meant Jason hadn’t told him.

That…was interesting. And so very bad.

“You didn’t get arrested, did you?” Sonny said shortly. “The club get shut down?”

“No, but—”

“So, you’re pissy because I didn’t come down personally to pat your head for doing your fucking job?” Sonny lifted his chin. “I don’t have to handle any of this shit. That’s why _I_ _’m_ in charge. Go yell at Jason—”

Tommy’s face flushed as the ire grew. “I’m not talking to some underling—I don’t work for fucking Jason Morgan?”

“You keep talking to me like that, and you won’t be working for _me_ either. Max—” Sonny flicked his eyes to Max, who straightened immediately. “Tell Jason to handle whatever the hell Tommy’s issues are.”

Then slammed his door, disappearing back into the penthouse. Tommy started to step forward, but Cody grabbed his arm.

“Tommy—”

“That little piece of shit—doesn’t he know who I _am_?” Tommy whirled around on Cody. “Get your hands _off_ me—”

“Tommy,” Max said, his tone more gentle than Cody’s clipped one. “Look, tensions have been high lately. I know that. I’ll talk to Jason when he comes in. He’ll work this out with Sonny.”

“I’m not—” Tommy exhaled slowly. “I already talked to him, but that isn’t how things are done—”

Cody started to say something, but then the elevator doors slid open—Jason and Elizabeth stepped off. Max was relieved because he knew Jason would make this okay—he always knew how to soothe Tommy’s ruffled feathers—

But they could all see something was wrong with the couple as soon as they left the elevator. Elizabeth blinked at the cluster of men outside of Sonny’s—and Max knew this was not the time. Her eyes were red, and she looked like she’d been crying. Jason didn’t look much better.

“Jason—” Tommy began as he stepped forward. “You need to—”

“Yo, Tommy—” Max grabbed the man’s arm, shook his head. “ _Not_ now.”

With a resigned sigh, Jason looked down at Elizabeth, squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right in, okay?”

Cody leaped forward to quickly unlock the penthouse door and shove it open so that Elizabeth could go inside without waiting—she didn’t say a word to anyone, but the air had changed in the small hallway. It felt smaller, darker.

“We don’t need you tonight,” Jason told Cody. “Sorry to make you wait around.”

“No problem—”

But Jason had already dismissed Cody from his mind—and looked at Tommy, who looked more unsure than he had before. “If this is about the raid, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell Sonny yet. I’ve been—can we do this tomorrow?”

And because none of them had ever seen Jason looking quite that tired or upset, Tommy just nodded wordlessly. “Uh, sure. Sure. You good, Jase?”

Jason didn’t answer and just disappeared into the penthouse. Cody looked after the pair of them before looking back at Tommy and Max.

“Uh, you tell Jason I’m sorry,” Tommy muttered. “It’s fine. I don’t need—it’s fine,” he repeated. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And, uh, I hope everything is okay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The guards waited for Tommy to get on the elevator—once the doors had slid closed, Max exhaled an uneasy breath. “You know what? I’m not telling Sonny Jason is home. Not right now. Don’t knock, don’t make trouble. My _revised_ policy.” He looked at Cody, who was still looking at the closed penthouse doors. “Cody. All of this — it’s not our business.”

The younger man focused on him. “What?”

“The personal stuff—” Max shook his head. “Not our problem. We got one job. I keep Mr. C alive, and you make sure Miss Webber is okay. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. That’s what Jason said last year when he assigned me. She comes first.” Cody nodded.

Max squinted at him, but then returned to his post.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Elizabeth had already removed her jacket when Jason came in a few minutes after her. She looked at him. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” Jason dropped his keys on the desk, peeled off his leather jacket, picked up her white jacket, and hung them both up. “There was a raid on one of Tommy’s clubs. I didn’t tell Sonny about it.” He met her eyes. “Tommy was probably pissed, but I don’t really care.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “You’re mad at me,” she said softly. He’d barely spoken since they’d left the hospital.

“No—” Jason shook his head. He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly before trailing his hands down her arms to take her hands in his. “Not mad. Just—” He hesitated. “I think that asking you to make any decisions today was expecting too much. We both went into this appointment expecting the worst—I don’t blame you for wanting to wait as long as you can.”

“Maybe you don’t _blame_ me,” Elizabeth said hesitantly, “but you also don’t _agree_ either.” She met his eyes. “You want me to change my mind.”

“I think…that we both need to sit with this for a while,” Jason said. “Like you said, as long as you rest and follow Kelly’s instructions, we can put off this decision—”

“But I’ve _made_ my decision,” Elizabeth told him. “I can’t—if I can wait, I don’t know why I wouldn’t—”

“I—”

“You’ve talked about how hard it is for _you_ to watch me struggle for air. That my panic attacks—the oxygen masks—” Elizabeth searched his eyes. “You _know_ how hard that is for you to go through. It’s even worse for _me_ to feel that way. So I think you might understand that there is no way I’m going to make a choice that puts our _son_ in that position. _I_ can’t watch _him_ struggle to breathe—”

“Okay.” Jason drew her against him, wrapping her tightly in his arms. “I know. I don’t want it either. I just—” He pulled back, tipped her face up. “There are no easy choices,” he admitted.

“This one _is_ easy—for me,” Elizabeth added. “I can’t—I _can_ _’_ t lose another child. Not now. What if we deliver early and there are complications—what if he doesn’t make it? How could I ever live with myself?” She drew in a deep breath. “There’s no point for us to argue about it.”

Jason pressed his lips together, then nodded. “I guess not. Not if you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have. As long as I can stand to wait, that’s what I want to do. So—” She smiled at him. “In a few weeks, we’ll get married. That’s what I want to focus on, you know? I promise I’ll rest, and most of the work is done anyway. I also—” She bit her lip. “Can we wait to tell anyone until after?”

Jason blinked, frowned. “Why? Emily’s already been leaving messages—”

“Because I don’t want to have people looking at me with pity or worry. Not when I just want to focus on being _happy_.” She fisted her hand in his t-shirt. “I just want to be happy, Jason. We can’t do anything to change this before the wedding, so can we just not talk about it?”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then he just sighed. “Yeah. Okay. Okay. We’ll…let it go for now.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	21. Chapter Seventy-One

_Lately, things been getting so crazy_  
 _I'm feeling like my heart hates me_  
 _It's racing_  
 _I just wanna stay in the dark_  
 _Turn off all the lights_  
 _Come hold me tight_  
 _Where we going?_  
\- Stay in the Dark, The Band Perry

* * *

_Tuesday, January 6, 2004_

**Queen of Angels Church: Anteroom**

The strange feeling had settled over Elizabeth as she and Jason had approached the church, walking through the courtyard lined with gravel. She glanced around, tightening her fingers around his hand.

She hadn’t been here that night, but now she wondered—

“When Emily offered to call Father Coates,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, “I didn’t think about the church. I should have—”

Jason stopped, turned to her with his brows drawn together. “Because of Carly? I talked to her.”

“Right,” she said with a nod. “And I know she’s going to come through a different entrance, but—” She hesitated. “It’s not going to cause more trouble with Sonny? This feels like the kind of thing—”

“I don’t care.” Jason shook his head. “This is our wedding, and Father Coates has always been understanding about security. If Carly had an issue, maybe that would have changed things.”

She knew he was right, and security was important, of course, but Elizabeth couldn’t quite shake the feeling tugging at her that something just wasn’t quite…right.

Inside, they greeted the priest that would preside over the wedding. Father Coates gestured for them to join him in his office to finalize arrangements for the end of the month. As he turned to point in the direction of his office, the folders in his arm became visible.

And she saw it. Two folders, one just slid behind the other so that both their labels were visible. Morgan-Matthews, 6/19/03, and Morgan-Webber, 1/31/04.

This wasn’t just the church where Carly had been kidnapped, where the entire nightmare had begun—

It was also the church where Jason had nearly married Courtney—would have married her if not for Carly’s kidnapping.

So much of that night was a complete blur to her, but Elizabeth had flashes, and she’d known Jason and Sonny had been in tuxes—both ties had been untied by the time they’d reached the house—

“Elizabeth?”

Blinking, Elizabeth focused on Jason, who had started to follow Father Coates. “Oh. I’m gonna walk around the church if that’s okay. There were a few things the wedding planner wanted me to look at it.”

When Jason hesitated, Elizabeth gestured at Cody standing behind her. “I’m fine. You know the security stuff better than I do.”

All right,” Jason said finally but looked at her one more time before following the priest into the office.

“I’m just going to walk down the hall,” Elizabeth told Cody. “Can—” She sighed. “Can you go clear the room at the end of the hall and give me a minute?’

The guard studied her for a minute, then nodded. “Sure thing, Miss Webber.” When he came back, he gave her nod, and Elizabeth decided that it was better to get the whole thing over with. Exorcise all the demons.

She went to the bridal suite. The room where she’d complete any final touches—where she would wait with her wedding party—The room Elizabeth knew Courtney had waited for her own wedding to Jason to begin last year. In her wedding dress.

Elizabeth didn’t even know how long she’d been standing there, seeing the other woman waiting to marry Jason in her mind.

Had Courtney had any doubts? Had she known when she called the PCPD that night that it would lead to all of us—

“I didn’t think about it being the same church,” Jason said from behind her. Elizabeth frowned, turned to him. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

“It’s fine. I mean, I knew you were supposed to get married that day. And I can’t—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I was already married.” But it felt different, and she couldn’t quite understand why—because Jason had started dating Courtney before Elizabeth had even really understood they were over? Had really accepted it?

“You married Ric because you were pregnant and alone,” Jason said slowly. “I don’t have that excuse—”

“Jason—I’m not—” Elizabeth paused. “It’s _not_ that.” Except — “Maybe it’s that a little bit. I’m sorry. We decided a long time ago we were done talking about before—” She rested her hands on their son, the flutters in her belly. It steadied her, remembering all the reasons they were here today. It really didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t matter.

“We’re standing in the church where I nearly married another woman less than another year ago,” Jason cut in, and she was relieved to see he wasn’t irritated or upset by the turn in her thoughts. “The fact we both rushed into new relationships after everything that happened between us—” He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “I didn’t want to think about you. About you with someone else. I wanted to be over it. So I told myself I was.”

“After you married Brenda—and I found out about Courtney—I definitely—” Elizabeth sighed, wistfully. “I definitely didn’t want to mess up my next chance to be happy. I’m sorry, Jason. Sometimes I think about that night in Luke’s when you told me you were getting divorced, and I wish I’d said something else. Anything else.”

“It’s okay.” Jason leaned down, kissed her gently. “I didn’t marry her. And Ric’s almost out of our lives. We’re right where we should be. Where I want to be.” He paused. “We can get married somewhere else—”

“It’s just a building,” Elizabeth smiled up at him. “We’ll get married here at the end of the month, and it’ll be beautiful. Then, in a few months, we’ll have our son—” She watched his face tense. “I know you’re still mad—”

“I’m not mad,” Jason said. He shook his head. “I just—” He paused. “Do you really want to talk about this?”

“No.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “No. It won’t change anything, and I just—go finish your meeting with Father Coates. I want to look at the chapel.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was just—a ghost I didn’t know I needed to exorcise or something. Last year—we went through a lot. But we’re done with it now. And—and we’ll get through the rest of it.” She smiled at him, and they walked out of the bridal suite, Jason closing the door behind them.

**Brownstone: Foyer**

Carly scowled at Sonny. “How many times are we going to have the exact _same_ conversation? No, you cannot see the boys until you either schedule an appointment with a therapist or Jason is with you.”

“Damn it, Carly, you have no right to keep my kids from me!” Sonny shot back. He slapped his hand against the stone wall of the Brownstone’s exterior, then put his foot in the doorway to keep Carly from shutting him out.

“Then take me to court, Sonny,” Carly retorted. “Go ahead. File a custody claim. Pay all the judges you want — you’re not getting near my boys until I’m satisfied they’re safe.” She stomped on his foot, and Sonny winced—but moved his foot long enough for her to slam the door.

She leaned against it, closing her eyes as her mother lifted her brows from the living room. “Don’t look at me like that, Mama. I’m doing the best I can.”

“I’m wondering if it might be time to try something different,” Bobbie said slowly as she joined her daughter in the foyer. “Sonny’s going to wander over here every few days or so to scream at you about the boys. Have you thought about asking Jason to arrange a visit—”

“Absolutely not. Jason has enough going on in his life right now. Something is wrong with Elizabeth—” Carly shook her head. “I don’t know what it is. But he came to the club a few days ago and looked really distracted and upset. He said they’re not ready to talk about it.”

“Something wasn’t right at the fitting,” Bobbie admitted. “But I thought maybe she was thinking about the church. They’re meeting with Father Coates today,” Bobbie explained when Carly frowned. “And I know Jason talked to you about Queen of Angels. It’s just—I’m not sure if they’ve thought about it also being the church where—”

“Where Jason nearly married Courtney.” Carly rubbed her chest. “No, it’s not that, Mama. She isn’t talking to you either?”

“She didn’t say a word—” Bobbie sighed. “Well, I’ll just have to drag it out of her—”

“Don’t say anything, I’m not supposed to know anything. I don’t think she’s told Emily either. It’s not the wedding. The twit isn’t that dumb—”

“Carly—”

Carly closed her eyes, winced. “Sorry. Reflex. Jason knows what’s going on, so I’m sure we will eventually. Let it go for now.” She rubbed her temple. “I’m just tired, Mama. Am I being too hard on Sonny? _Should_ I let him see the boys?”

“I don’t know,” Bobbie admitted. “At first, I was on your side. I still am—I don’t want you to go back to him. Or take the boys to stay with him. But, baby, he’s not going to get help. And if you’re not willing to ask Jason to do you a favor—”

“I just—I’m scared of what might happen with the boys. With Sonny. Michael already saw him in the middle of a bad panic attack. They’re just babies, you know? I have to protect them.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t know if I’m doing it right.”

“You know that Sonny has talked to Justus,” Bobbie said slowly. “Maybe it’s time we talk to a lawyer, too. Elizabeth’s divorce attorney was good—”

“Mama—”

“Carly.”

“ _Mama_ ,” Carly said again. “Let me handle this. I’m not ready to pull that trigger yet—and even if I was—I know who I _need_ to talk to.”

“Well, Carly, you can only stick your head in the sand for so long—”

“I—” Carly shook her head. “I know. But if I go and file for divorce, Sonny is going to absolutely lose it. And Jason does not need that right now. I’m safe. I’m out of it. And so are the boys. I got myself out. For once, Jason deserves for me to think about him first.”

**Blue Moon: Office**

“Tommy,” Jason said, walking into the manager’s office, Bernie on his heels. Tommy stood up, and Jason leaned forward to shake his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t come down sooner—”

“No, no, I told your guys there was no need.” Tommy sat down behind the desk. “Sit, sit,” he said with a wave of his hand. “The raid didn’t do much damage. We don’t keep anything around this office anyway. And you called—”

“I did. I just—I didn’t tell Sonny, and I should have. I’m the reason he didn’t come to see you,” Jason told him. “I’m sorry about that, Tommy. You’ve worked with him too long—”

“Jase—” Tommy leaned forward. “You know I like you. Always have. Even when you ditched us and sold out to Moreno—”

Jason winced, and Tommy shook his head. “I knew why you did it. You were too young back then, and I didn’t want you in charge anyway. Too young,” he repeated when Jason frowned at him. “But we got problems with Sonny. He’s not the man he used to be—”

“He’s going through some things,” Jason began, but Tommy just looked impatient now.

“He’s not doing the work,” Tommy retorted. “He dragged this organization back from Moreno, took on Sorel—and for a long time, we managed. But ever since he got married to this new wife—”

New wife. Carly and Sonny had been together for three years, but to a guy like Tommy, anything less than ten years —

“Tommy—”

“Some guys — they do better with family. You—you’re gonna be okay this time. You got your head on straight, and I like your girl. I hope she’s okay.”

Jason hesitated. “She’s fine, Tommy. You’ll see her at the wedding.”

“I like her better than the last two you hooked up with,” Tommy continued. “But Sonny can’t hack it anymore—”

“There’s no Moreno or Sorel anymore,” Jason said softly. “No local competition. So Sonny’s the _only_ option, Tommy. Unless you’re telling me something.”

“If I wanted to take over for Smith,” Tommy said with a frown, “I could have crushed Sonny like a bug. I could have stepped on _you_ when Sonny left you holding the bag. I didn’t do that, did I? Don’t question my loyalty—”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Tommy—” Jason lifted a brow. “You either work for Sonny, or you go into retirement—”

“ _He_ _’s_ not the only option, Jase.” Tommy got to his feet. “But you’re not ready to see that yet. Loyalty’s a good thing, but it only goes so far. It’s gotta be earned.”

“And Sonny’s earned yours—”

“He did. Once. But anything earned can be lost. You make sure Sonny gets his priorities straight.”

“Tommy—”

“I’m not planning to make any trouble, Jase. And neither is my crew,” he continued. “Not now. We know what you’ve been through this last year. I watch the news. I saw what your girl was dealing with. No one is gonna make a move with your wedding coming up.”

Jason closed his eyes. He absolutely did not need this right now. “But after?”

“You be straight with me, and I’ll be straight with you.” Tommy met his eyes. “Elizabeth and the baby. They okay?”

Jason hated this. Hated the idea of using Elizabeth’s condition, using his son as a shield, but — “No,” he admitted finally, taking in Bernie’s look of concern. “But it’s not something we’re talking about, Tommy. It’s—it’s a complication that—” He shook his head. “I’m asking you to hold the line until she has the baby. I’ll plug the leaks, I’ll deal with Sonny. I’ll get it under control.”

“I’m with you, Jason,” Tommy promised. “But you get Sonny together. I can give you a few months. Through April, maybe. But the problems we’re having—they’re not new.”

“I know that. Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at the wedding. And Jason? I’m sorry. I hope everything turns out.”

“Yeah.” Jason pulled open the office door. “Yeah, me, too.”

**Harborview Towers: Lobby**

Scott shoved the front door open, then frowned when he saw Taggert waiting in the lobby, glaring at an envelope in his hands. “Oh, hell, did she get you, too?”

Taggert looked up, then sighed. “What am I supposed to do with this, Baldwin?” He held up the envelope. “I can’t open this. I know what it is.”

“This is ridiculous,” Scott muttered. He went over to the security desk. “Is Elizabeth Webber home? I need to talk to her.”

“Uh—” The guard blinked at him. “You need a warrant—”

“Really?” Scott slapped the wedding invitation on the desk. “Here’s my frickin’ warrant—”

“Scott?”

He turned at the sound of Elizabeth’s hesitant voice. She had just left the elevator attached to the parking garage, and her guard was next to her. “Is everything okay?” She looked over at Taggert. Saw the invitation in his hand. Looked at his face again. “Oh. I guess you’re saying no.”

“Uh—” Taggert scratched his temple. “Listen.”

“Um, do you mind if we go upstairs?” Elizabeth asked. “I’ve been on my feet for a little while, and I need to sit down.”

Scott scowled, but he and Taggert followed the brunette into the residential elevator. Her guard slid a key into an access panel, then pressed the button for the penthouse level. He felt a flicker of guilt — he knew that piece of security hadn’t been there before September.

Before a cop had attacked and nearly raped Elizabeth again in her own home. He exchanged a look at Taggert over Elizabeth’s head, knew the lieutenant had seen the action as well.

“Cody, I should be in for the rest of the day,” Elizabeth told the guard as she unlocked the penthouse. “I think Jason said he wouldn’t be home until late—”

“I’m with you until he gets back,” Cody promised. “I already took my lunch.”

“Okay, but don’t forget to get someone up for dinner,” Elizabeth told him. “You always do, and I don’t want you waiting until Jason and I eat—”

Cody promised, then Elizabeth gestured for the DA and lieutenant to walk into the penthouse. Scott cast a look towards the Corinthos penthouse, then huffed and followed Elizabeth in.

“Elizabeth, it’s not that I’m not—I’m not, uh, flattered to get the invitation,” Taggert began as she removed her coat and set it over the desk. “It’s just—you know—conflict of interest and whatnot.”

“Yeah. That—” Scott pointed at him. “That’s what I was gonna say. Very touched to be included, but it’s just—I’m the DA.”

“I know.” Elizabeth smiled at them, but Scott frowned — he’d spent a lot of time with Elizabeth in the last six months, and he liked to think he knew her pretty well.

And something was wrong.

“I guess — when I was making the list, I should have edited it more. Jason wasn’t exactly wild about it either,” she said. Her smile this time felt more genuine, but there was still a sadness there. “But he told me I could invite anyone I wanted. And I guess—I don’t know.” She hesitated, looked at Taggert before focusing on Scott. “I know how Ned found out about the false lab report in my case—”

Taggert lifted his eyes at Scott. “ _Really?_ _”_ Scott waved at him, dismissing it.

“And I know you _both_ risked a lot asking Jason to go on that trip to see Tom Baker a few months ago,” Elizabeth continued, as Taggert frowned, and Scott looked away. “I know you both just did your job, but I felt a lot safer knowing you were both working on the case. Both cases,” she clarified.

“Listen—”

“And I know you couldn’t come to the reception. Because that really would be too much,” Elizabeth continued. “But I understand if you can’t come. I don’t want to cause either of you any problems. Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

“Oh, well—” Scott shuffled. “Listen,” he repeated. “You’re right. The reception—” He sliced his hand through the air. “That’s out, you know? But, uh, I guess—I mean—” He looked at the baffled Taggert. “We could—we could manage the ceremony.”

“Really?” Elizabeth brightened, and Scott was relieved to see that she did look happier. He drew back his shoulders, feeling ridiculously proud of himself. “Because I invited Lee and Gail, but they’re in Arizona for the month.”

“Oh—yeah, they’ll be disappointed, but me and Taggert—it’ll be fine.” Scott looked at the cop. “Right? If the mayor can go—”

“Right,” Taggert said faintly. “Sure. Uh, _just_ the ceremony. Thanks for understanding.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I mean that. I feel like a lot of the reason I’m still here, that I’m getting married, and that I don’t have to worry about Vinnie Esposito—I can have this new star all because of you—both of you.”

“I’m happy to see you happy,” Taggert said. “So mark me down for the ceremony. And, uh, maybe a plus one,” he muttered.

Scott frowned at him, but cleared his throat, looking back at Elizabeth. “Uh, yeah. But I don’t have a plus one. I think she’s in your bridal party.”

“Oh, yeah, Bobbie. I wanted to ask her to walk me down the aisle, but I was afraid that it would be too weird,” Elizabeth admitted. “Carly and I just started getting along, so I don’t want to mess that up.”

“I think Bobbie would be pleased as hell to walk you down the aisle,” Scott told her. “We’ll see you at the end of the month.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Back on the elevator, Taggert glared at Scott. “How the hell did you let _that_ happen?”

“Me?” Scott huffed. “ _You_ _’re_ taking a freaking date—”

“I can’t go to a wedding and not ask the woman I’m seeing,” Taggert retorted. “And hell—how the hell am I going to explain to Anna Devane that I’m going to Jason Morgan’s freaking wedding?”

“Listen.” Scott took him by the shoulder, pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. That’s the policy. We’ll slip in, we’ll slip out, and that’ll be it—and we’re not going to Morgan’s wedding. We’re going to _Elizabeth_ _’s_ —”

“They’re the same thing—”

“Nope.” Scott shook his head. “I’m picturing a faceless groom. I just—” He grimaced. “She made me feel like I’d be doing her a favor, Taggert. How was I supposed to say no?”

“I know.” Taggert sighed. “I know. Thank God she didn’t take up a life of crime. We’d never be able to arrest her.”

**General Hospital: Monica** **’s Office**

Jason hesitantly stepped inside his mother’s office and closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry for just showing up like this—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Monica came around her desk and gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa. “I can always find the time for my kids.” She hesitated after the statement and then smiled when Jason didn’t seem to flinch at the thought. “How are you? How’s Elizabeth?”

“Physically fine.” Jason sat down, and Monica perched on the cushion next to him. “We’re not—” He paused. “You can talk to me about Elizabeth, right? Without her being here?”

“I can—” Monica squinted, suspicious now. “You’re her power of attorney, and she’s given us permission, in any case. Why?”

“When we came in last week, you told us that you and Kelly had talked to any doctor who had worked with a pregnant CTEPH patient.”

“It took some time, but yes.” Monica tipped her head. “Does Elizabeth know you’re here?”

“No—I—we’re not talking about it,” he admitted. “In her mind, she’s made the decision, and unless something changes medically—” Jason couldn’t sit still. He shoved himself to his feet and walked across the room. “The other cases. How did they turn out?”

“Well, as I said in the meeting — this is a rare condition. We weren’t able to find all that many cases at all. We found five women with CTEPH in pregnancy. Three of them were diagnosed before the twelfth week, and terminated the pregnancy.”

“The other two?” Jason didn’t look at her.

Monica pressed her lips together. “The other two women were diagnosed later. In weeks eighteen and twenty-two. Both elected to keep the baby.”

“And what happened?”

“Jason—”

“Monica—” He paused. “Mom,” he said softly. “I need to know. I need to be ready.” Jason met her eyes. “I don’t know if I can get Elizabeth to change her mind or back down about waiting as long as possible. So if I need—” His chest was tight, and he could hardly speak. Couldn’t even manage to form the words on his lips.

“One of the women,” Monica said, slowly, rising to her feet, “was forced to check into the hospital after twenty-five weeks and delivered at twenty-eight weeks. She successfully had the CTEPH surgery.”

“The baby?”

Monica sighed. “Lasted a week in the NICU.”

Jason paused but then forced himself to ask. “And the other?”

“The patient had been diagnosed at eighteen weeks and was relatively healthy until thirty weeks. Then she had a heart attack. She died. They delivered the baby, and he survived.”

Jason closed his eyes. The only two known cases of this condition — “And does Elizabeth know that? Does she know there’s never been a known case of both the woman and baby surviving delivery?”

“Jason—”

“ _Does_ Elizabeth know that?” Jason bit out, then winced. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize, Jason. These are terrible choices, I know that. No, she doesn’t know about the cases we found. And these two cases aren’t predicting the future. They had different medical histories — Elizabeth was in stronger health going into her pregnancy and maintained a healthy first and second trimester until now. That matters —” Monica put a hand on his forearm. “ _Look_ at me.”

He met his mother’s eyes. “She’s not going to choose anything that might hurt the baby. I could beg her until I’m blue in the face, but she won’t deliver him a minute earlier than she has to. She’ll kill herself if it means the baby will be okay.”

“I know that—”

“She blames herself for the miscarriage—it doesn’t matter that Faith pushed her, that Ric drugged her—” Jason dragged his hand through his hair. “Okay. You don’t have a lot of CTEPH cases. I get it. But it’s a kind of hypertension, right? That’s more common—”

“Jason—”

“What’s the fatality rate on that?” he pushed. “For other cases of pulmonary hypertension in pregnancy—you’re too good a doctor not to have those figures—”

“Sit down, Jason—”

“I can’t—”

“Jason,” Monica repeated. “ _Sit down_.”

He sat in the chair, put his head in his hands. “She blames herself for not protecting that first baby,” he said in a quiet voice, so faint that Monica could barely hear him. “What are the fatality rates? Please.”

“It varies,” Monica said quietly. “From thirty to fifty percent.”

“Thirty to _fifty_ —” Jason looked at her, his eyes almost wild. “Are you—how—” He took a deep breath. “Elizabeth’s blood pressure has been elevated since the beginning. I haven’t been to all the appointments. Have you ever talked to her about this?”

“About hypertension? Yes. Kelly and I both counseled her shortly after she was attacked in the penthouse. It was important that she rest.” Monica paused. “Yes. Elizabeth knows _those_ numbers, and she got her blood pressure down in October. It’s been elevated, but it’s always been in the normal range—and Jason—”

She waited until he looked at her. Until she could see his eyes and knew he was listening. She took her son’s hand. “Her blood pressure is _still_ in the normal range. Yes, it’s elevated. But not dangerously. Yes, she’s had some issues breathing. I’m concerned about her oxygen intake, but her levels are normal. If she can avoid stress — I don’t expect Elizabeth to have any serious issues for several months. She might even make it until the eighth month without a crisis. I’m not counting on it, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”

He leaned back. Looked at the ceiling. “So, she’s okay for now.”

“For now. Avoiding stress. Resting. Regular vital checks. Jason — those other two cases — they don’t have to be Elizabeth’s fate. She’s stronger than she looks. And you know that your father and I will move mountains to get her the care she needs right here at GH so you won’t have to take her anywhere else.”

“I—” He nodded. “Yeah. I know that. I just—” Jason shook his head. “When does it end?” he asked softly. “When does she get to stop fighting?”

“It’s terribly unfair for this to be happening to her after last year,” Monica agreed with a nod. “After the miscarriage, the embolism, her attack — I want this to be done, too. We’ll get her through this.” She squeezed his hand. “You haven’t told Emily yet.”

“Elizabeth doesn’t want to tell anyone,” Jason said, almost numbly. “Until after the wedding. She wants people to be happy.” He looked at her. “I don’t know if I can put it out my head. She wants me to, and I want to do it for her. But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Well, when it gets to be too much, you just come to talk to me,” Monica told him, her chest aching for her little boy who had always taken on the weight of the world and tried to fix it. “We’ll take this one day at a time, Jason.”

**Kelsey** **’s Apartment: Living Room**

Kelsey wrinkled her nose and looked at Lucky as he trudged through the door. “Hey. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming over tonight.”

“I got stuck at the station.” He stifled a yawn as he removed his coat. “And then I had to go to Kelly’s and grab clothes. The stuff I have here is dirty, and I forgot to take it to the laundromat—”

He collapsed on the sofa, his eyes closed, his head back. Kelsey folded her legs underneath her, twisting to face him. “Bad day?”

“Paperwork,” her boyfriend grunted. “I should have crashed at Kelly’s. I’m not up to—” His eyes were barely a sliver of blue as he looked at her. “Uh, my usual performance.”

“Poor baby.” Kelsey tossed her legal pad on the table, then crawled over to him, swinging a leg over his body and straddling him. “One of my cases plead out this morning, so I didn’t have to spend all day in trial.”

Lucky’s hands rested on her thighs as he sat up slightly, opening his eyes more. “Are you _mocking_ me?”

“No,” she drawled. “I was offering to do most of the work, but if you’re not interested—” She started to stand up—but Lucky’s hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. She giggled as he her onto her back, and he loomed over her. “Hey — second wind?”

“You know why I didn’t crash at my place?” he asked, settling into the cradle of her hips. Lucky smoothed her hair out of her face. “I didn’t want to miss seeing you today.”

“I’m glad you came over,” Kelsey murmured. She tugged his face down to hers. “You’re on a month to month at Kelly’s, aren’t you?” she asked after a long, lingering kiss.

“Yeah—”

“You think your aunt would mind if you only gave three weeks notice?”

Lucky squinted. “What are you—”

“February 1. Move in here,” Kelsey said. She nipped at his mouth. “We’ll keep all our dirty laundry together.”

“Are you sure—”

“When was the last time you spend more than a night there?” she asked. “Why pay rent on a room you barely use? Let’s be real grown ups. Move in. You’re here all the time anyway.”

“I’ll call Aunt Bobbie tomorrow. But first —” Lucky wiggled his brows, and she giggled as he leaned down and kissed her neck.

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

Elizabeth frowned when Jason came home that night — she knew he’d be late and she’d eaten dinner on her own, but she was surprised when he came into the room, then went straight to the bathroom. Without a word.

She heard the shower turn on a moment later. Curious—even worried, Elizabeth shoved back the blanket and padded across the carpet to knock lightly on the door, still partially ajar. “Jason?”

“Yeah?” his voice floated out towards her.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to lay back down, so she sat on his side of the bed and waited. He didn’t take long showers like she did, so within five minutes, Jason had exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Jason—”

“When you got out of the hospital,” Jason said, turning to her as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a cotton gray t-shirt. “Last October— you had a follow-up appointment with Monica and Kelly. I didn’t go.”

"No, something came up at the warehouse—” Elizabeth squinted. “You don’t always go. Or you didn’t before. What’s wrong?”

“I went to see Monica today,” he admitted. He leaned against his dresser, and she was starting to get irritated with him. If he had a problem, why wouldn’t he just say something — “I had a few questions that didn’t get answered last week.”

“Jason—”

“Did you remember what they told you back then?” Jason asked. “When you talked to them about your blood pressure?”

“I—” She frowned, drew her brows together, and got to her feet. “I don’t know. My blood pressure was normal—well, I mean before the attack. And it was high for a while after, but they said if I rested—”

“They talked to you about pulmonary hypertension,” Jason said flatly. “Monica said they did.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s expression eased. “Oh, yeah, I do remember that. Monica said if my blood pressure didn’t go down by the next appointment, I might become hypertensive. But it _did_ go down. Remember? I stayed in and spent most of the month on the sofa.” She tipped her head. “Jason—what _exactly_ do you think I found out at this appointment that’s making you so angry?”

“The fatality rates for pulmonary hypertension. And I’m not—” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not mad.”

“Then you’re doing a pretty good impression of someone who is.” She paused as his words sank in. “The fatality rates? Wait.”

“I went back because I realized we never let Monica or Kelly tell us about the other cases of pregnant women with CTEPH,” Jason said slowly. “They only found five other patients. Three were diagnosed early in the pregnancy and terminated.”

Elizabeth sat back down. “And the other two?” she asked softly.

“In one, the baby died. And in the other, the mother died.” Jason sat next to her. “And the fatality rates for pulmonary hypertension in pregnant women can be as high as fifty percent.”

“Fifty—” Elizabeth curled her hands into fists, stared at them in her lap. “There’s no case where both survived?”

“No. At least not that they know of. It’s too rare.” Jason took one of her fists in his hand, gently pulled her fingers apart. “I’m sorry. I thought you remembered.”

“You thought I _remembered_ hearing that half of women with hypertension die and didn’t—” Elizabeth yanked her hand away from him, jerking back to her feet. “You thought I was keeping it from you? How? _Why_?”

“You didn’t want to talk about any choice that wasn’t waiting as long as possible. Even when Kelly and Monica both made it clear—”

“Jason, I didn’t—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t keep this from you. I wouldn’t. And I—I can’t believe you thought I _would_. Why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked to Monica together—”

“I—” Jason bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I’m not—I’m handling this well,” he confessed. “I can’t seem to wrap my head around any of it. You don’t want to talk about it or think about it because the decision’s made, and I just—” He looked away. “I have to deal with it. I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth’s eyes stung with tears. “You make it sound so terrible. Like I didn’t even _think_ about you—”

“Did you?” he asked, fastening his gaze on hers, his own eyes burning into hers. “You didn’t ask me what I wanted to do—”

“Because I _know_ what you want to do. What you wanted to do months ago when I found out I was pregnant,” Elizabeth said quietly. “You want me to put myself first. You were the one who brought up abortion first.”

“Don’t—” Jason shot up. “No. Don’t say it like I _still_ want that. I love this baby, Elizabeth. Of course I do—”

“I’m sorry—I know—” She rubbed a hand against her chest. “I know you love the baby. But you still think this is a situation where there’s a choice. And I can’t—I can’t see it that way. I _can_ _’t_ see a life for myself if I do anything that puts my son at risk—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I can’t—” She turned away, pressed her hands to her face. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. So you can either be okay with it or not, but I can’t do it—”

“All right.” Jason came up behind her, drew her back against him. “I’m sorry,” he told her, his breath warm against her temple. “I’m just trying the best I can.”

“I know.”

“Monica reminded me that you’re okay right now. So, let’s do what you wanted me to do in the first place. We’ll put it away. We’ll go to the doctor appointments, but let’s just think about the wedding.”

Elizabeth turned in his arms, resting her hands against his chest, and searched his eyes. “ _Can_ you do that?” she asked. “Jason—”

“If that’s what you need me to do, then yeah—” He rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah, I can do that.”


	22. Chapter Seventy-Two

_Come on and we'll sing, like we were free  
Push the pedal down watch the world around fly by us  
Come on and we'll try, one last time  
I'm off the floor one more time to find you  
And here we go there's nothing left to choose  
And here we go there's nothing left to lose _  
\- Nothing Left to Lose, Mat Kearney

* * *

_Wednesday, January 7, 2004_

**Quartermaine Estate: Family Room**

Elizabeth was determined that she wouldn’t let her medical problems take over her whole life. She didn’t want to be obsessing about her breathing, about her pulse, about her blood pressure all the time— she just wanted to live.

And if sometimes that meant pretending she wasn’t sick — well, Elizabeth was just fine with doing that, too.

“Hello, darling,” Lila said as Elizabeth kissed her cheek. “It’s so sweet of you to come by like this.”

Elizabeth sat on the sofa next to the chair and took photos out of her purse. “Well, I know you couldn’t come to the fitting,” she said to Jason’s grandmother, “but Emily said you were hoping to see what the dress looks like, so we took a lot of photos.”

“Bless you, dear.” Lila took the first photo. “Oh, it’s lovely—I _thought_ this would be the dress when Emily showed us the choices.”

“Yeah, I was on the fence,” Elizabeth admitted. “It’s more expensive than I wanted the dress to be, but Emily convinced me to try it on, and—”

When the stylist had helped her step up in front of the three-way mirror—she’d just known. This was the dress she wanted to wear the day she married Jason. “It seems silly to spend so much money on a dress you wear once,” Elizabeth admitted.

“That’s not silly,” Lois said as she entered the room. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—” she said when Elizabeth and Lila looked at her. “I—I just wanted—I wore my mother’s dress when Ned and I were married. The second time,” she added when Lila raised her brows. “We got married at Coney Island.”

“That sounds like it was fun,” Elizabeth said, turning slightly and smiling at Lois. “And you didn’t mind your mother’s dress? I mean—”

“Well, I had a few alterations to update it, but yeah, I thought it would be a good omen. My parents were devoted to each other forever—” Lois paused. “Well, anyway — this is a beautiful dress, Elizabeth. You’re going to look lovely in it.”

“Thanks. I guess maybe I could save it,” she said slowly, then something inside her clutched. If something went wrong — there’d be no daughter to pass the dress to. Would her little boy want it?

“Elizabeth?” Lila asked gently. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “There’s just been a lot of details to deal with these last few weeks. And I’ve been more tired than I was before.”

“Of course, dearest.” Lila patted her hand. “But these photos are so lovely, and I look forward to seeing you and Jason start your life. You’re so wonderful together. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Thank you. And—and we’re going to stop here after the ceremony,” Elizabeth promised her, pleased when Lila’s eyes brightened. “I know you can’t come, but it’s so important to Jason and I that you’re part of this day. We love you.”

“That would be _wonderful_. I look forward to it.”

Later, as Lois walked Elizabeth to the door, she smiled. “You’ve made her day, you know. It breaks her heart that she can’t get around the way she used to.”

“It’s hard for all of us to see her fading,” Elizabeth admitted. “I know how much she means to Jason. She should get to be part of this in any way we can. I thought about having the ceremony in the rose garden, but then I thought—”

“Having the party here might be too much for her,” Lois admitted.

“And there’s other reasons it has to be a neutral place,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Not everyone we had to invite could come to the mansion. And Jason wouldn’t want them here.”

“Ah. Understood.” Lois paused. “Are you all right? You seem—I know you said you were tired, but—”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth told her. “I just need to go home and relax. I’m going to take a long bubble bath, I think, and try to think about something else.”

“Okay. Well, you know where Ned and I are if you need anything.”

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason** **’s Office**

Jason grimaced as Bernie set a stack of contracts in front of him. “How? _How_ is there this much paperwork?”

“You think this is bad, think about what _I_ have to do,” Bernie told him as he sat down. “That covers last week and next week’s coffee exports from Colombia and Venezuela. It also takes care of a customs investigation because of a hold-up in Caracas—and the building permits to finish the renovations on the coffee shop—”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Jason muttered as he reached for the first stack. He looked at Justus. “Can I give _you_ the power to sign this stuff?”

“Uh, you could, but when I embezzle everything and run off with my girls to Tahiti, you’ll regret it.” Justus flashed a grin, and Jason’s shoulders relaxed. There were sometimes when coming to this office didn’t feel like a chore, and it was largely because of Justus and Bernie.

He didn’t use to hate his job, but since Sonny stopped even pretending to work after the hearing, everything had been dumped on Jason.

“I also finalized the security for the church,” Bernie said. “After you sent over the final figures yesterday, I talked to Francis, and he’s got it handled.” He paused. “There is one thing we should probably talk about—”

The door to the office slammed open, and Sonny stalked in, shoving between Bernie and Justus, who both got to their feet, warily. Sonny slapped something on Jason’s desk—

Jason sighed, looking down at it. “Is there a problem?” he asked after a long moment, raising his eyes to Sonny’s dark ones. “You knew we were engaged—”

“You’re having a wedding at Queen of Angels,” Sonny bit out. “And a reception at the hotel? Are you _insane_?”

Jason cleared his throat, picked up the invitation. He’d barely read it when Elizabeth had shown it to him, but he didn’t see anything that would set Sonny off like this — “Are you mad because it’s not the No Name? I—”

“You’re having the ceremony at the same church my wife was abducted from,” Sonny snarled. “You’re marrying _Ric_ ’s wife—are you trying to taunt him? _Trying_ to get him to come out in the open?”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, not trusting that he was serious. “Do you really think I’d use Elizabeth like that? Put her in danger—put our child in danger—I’m not the one obsessed with Ric—you are—” He flung the invitation back at Sonny. “We’re having the wedding at the church that I attend, and that allows our guards. If you don’t like it, you can stay home—”

Bernie winced, and Jason glared at him. “ _What_?”

“Uh, not that this is any of my business nor do I want it to be—” the advisor added, “but Sonny _can_ _’t_ stay home—”

“Why the hell not?” Sonny demanded. “You think I _want_ to be part of this?”

His chest tightened, twisted, and Jason didn’t even recognize the feeling at first as hurt. Despite all their issues, all the fights — Sonny was supposed to be his family. He’d even seemed almost happy for Jason a few weeks ago when he’d found out about the engagement.

He’d once thought of Elizabeth like a member of his own family —

Now Sonny didn’t care that Jason was marrying her—that he was having a child—

“Because if you don’t go,” Bernie continued, with an apologetic glance at Jason, “it sends a message to people that there’s an issue. Is that—is that something we want?”

“No,” Sonny said flatly. He took a breath. “No. I just—” He looked at Jason. “Why? _Why_ are you waving a red flag at Ric like this? You could just get married at the courthouse if it’s so damn important to do it right now—”

“This is how things are,” Jason said. “And it’s not up to you.”

Sonny scowled, then stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Jason exhaled slowly, looked at Bernie. “Is _that_ what you were going to bring up? Sonny at the wedding?”

“Yes, well—if you were to scale back the ceremony — a private ceremony,” Bernie said, “then you could get around not having Sonny there.”

“Which I completely _understand_ ,” Justus muttered. Bernie shot him a dirty look. “What? What has Sonny done to earn even being invited? He should be worshipping the ground Elizabeth walks on for even inviting him or did you put her up to it—”

“Yes, she did run the list past with me,” Bernie retorted. “As soon as she’d decided to have something larger, she wanted to make sure she’d invited everyone she needed to—”

Surprised, Jason stared at him. “Why didn’t she ask me? I would—”

“You’re running around putting out fires all the time,” Bernie said. “She didn’t want to bother you, and I took care of it, so no, Justus, I didn’t _make_ her invite Sonny. He was already on the list.” He paused. “In the bridal party.”

“The bridal—” Jason winced, then sat down, put his head in his hands. “He needs to be the best man.”

“He does. That’s what I wanted to bring up. Elizabeth already had him listed that way, but I wanted to make sure _you_ were on the same page.” Bernie paused. “If you’re determined to have _this_ large of a wedding—”

Jason frowned, looked up, then looked at Justus. “That’s the second time you said something like that—what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Justus said with a sigh as he sat back down, “is that Sonny isn’t wrong. Marrying Ric’s wife—”

“ _Ex_ ,” Jason snapped.

“Not to Ric,” Justus said calmly. “Marrying his wife, after he went after her about an affair with you—knowing she’s pregnant—the same church—if Ric is paying attention—”

“I thought about that,” Jason said. “You think I didn’t?”

“Of course not—”

“We’ve doubled security. Elizabeth will have two guards that day—one to stand right next to her, and another to follow her inside. I also don’t think—” Jason shook his head. “I’m aware of the risk. I don’t agree it’s as serious as you obviously do, but if you looked over the guest list, then you know Elizabeth invited the Vegas. And the Tagliattis.”

“And the Ruiz family is sending a representative,” Bernie said. “She did not reach out to the Zaccharas, but I followed up with Anthony. He wasn’t expecting anything less with the bad blood.”

“Courtney—” Jason grimaced. “She didn’t want all those people at the wedding last year, and I didn’t push her on it.” He hadn’t cared about the guest list. Or the wedding. Or about marrying Courtney at all, which should have told him something. “But they’ll be there this year. With their security.”

“He might want the challenge—”

“Or he might not. Am I supposed to tell Elizabeth after everything she’s been through that this is one _more_ thing Ric Lansing is going to take from her?” Jason demanded. He shoved the contracts aside. “No. We have the security we need, and Elizabeth gets this. Is that understood?” He glared at the both of them, waiting for them to complain.

“Of course.”

Jason left the office, and Justus winced as he slammed the door. “This building is going to come down again if this keeps up,” he muttered.

“That went well,” Bernie said pleasantly. “I’m sure we glad we decided to do this today.”

“Shut up.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Emily grimaced as she leaned back in her chair. “Why did we have to grow up?”

Nikolas frowned, then traded a look with his brother before looking back at their best friend. “Because that’s how the body works?”

“And time,” Lucky said, with a serious nod. “It—you know—marches forward.”

“I will pummel the _both_ of you,” Emily muttered. She played with the straw in her drink, then sighed. “No, I just—I liked it when our problems were easier.”

“Whose childhood are _you_ remembering?” Lucky asked. “Because I got shot when I was thirteen—”

“Eighteen,” Nikolas said with a nod. “ _I_ was definitely shot when I was eighteen—oh,” he pointed at Lucky, “and _you_ shoved me down the steps when I was—what, sixteen?”

Lucky snapped his fingers. “I moved out at that age—”

“Is this a comedy act the two of you have put together?” Emily said, narrowing her eyes. “Because it’s closing on opening night.”

“We’re just messing with you,” Lucky told him. “Well, I am—you know Cassadines—there’s no sense of humor there—”

“Listen, I picked a very funny picture of you for the Spencer dartboard,” Nikolas told him. “You’re making a weird face, I think you’re sneezing—”

“That is the second time he’s mentioned Spencer dartboards,” Lucky said to Emily. “I think they’re real.”

“I wouldn’t try to find out. You could catch me in the middle of a practice session, and I might get confused—”

Emily growled, and the brothers tried to cover their snickers. “Sorry, Em,” Nikolas said, putting his hands up. “You just—you looked upset. And we wanted to cheer you up. What’s wrong?”

“I know we’ve all been through a lot,” she said. “I _know_ we did not have a normal childhood. But I just—I miss when we could see each other all the time. This is the first time the three of us have managed to grab lunch since September. And Elizabeth can’t be here. I just—I miss it. I miss us making time for each other. And if Lucky weren’t living here, I wouldn’t even see him half—” Emily paused. “Why are you making that face?”

“Well, if you’re counting Kelly’s to keep us together,” Lucky said, wincing, “then you’re going to be really mad. Because I’m moving out at the end of the month—”

“Wait—wait—” Emily put up her hands. “Are you talking about Kelsey? Are you and Kelsey moving in together? Because that’s _awesome!_ ” She grinned. “Lucky!”

“Mom will start planning the wedding when you tell her,” Nikolas told Lucky. “You ready for that?”

“I’m not telling her until the last minute, so no—but, yeah, we just decided last night. I gave Aunt Bobbie my notice this morning.” Lucky wiggled his shoulders. “Talk about growing up. The last time I lived with someone, it was just Elizabeth and I sharing a room upstairs. And that—” He whistled. “Did not turn out well.”

“Pfft. Don’t even count that,” Emily told him with a shake of her head. “You were brainwashed, and Liz was barely there.”

“Oh, man, that hurt.” Lucky wrinkled his nose. “I mean, yeah, it’s true, but _still_. Speaking of my ex-fiancée—” He looked at Nikolas. “You get an invitation to the wedding of the year?”

“I did, but I’m also supposed to be giving the bride away. I wasn’t sure if you’d go considering she’s marrying Jason.”

“Eh, I’m in Major Crimes, not Organized. I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Also, Luke Spencer _is_ my dad, so…” Lucky shrugged. “Kelsey might sit it out, though, I think. She doesn’t really know either of them, and I don’t think she’s as comfortable with the blurry lines in Port Charles yet.”

Nikolas tipped his head in agreement, then frowned at Emily. “You just got that look on your face again. What’s up?”

“Oh—it’s—it’s nothing.” Emily hesitated. “It might be something, but I don’t know if I should say anything—”

“Oh, man, we’re going to be here all night.” Lucky raised his brows. “Em—”

“Elizabeth was supposed to have these tests last week,” Emily admitted finally.

“Tests?” Nikolas repeated, leaning forward. “Wait—”

“She’s been having some breathing problems,” she continued, “and she was supposed to find out a few days ago, but she keeps dodging the question, and I finally stopped asking—” She shredded a napkin into small pieces. “I guess I’m wondering if no news is good news or if no news is the apocalypse—”

Nikolas, looking a bit uneasy, glanced at Lucky, who also looked worried before focusing on Emily again. “I think we should just let Elizabeth set her own pace,” he said finally. “She’s been dealing with a lot. She’ll share whatever it is when she’s ready.”

“I know. I know. I just—I’m just tired, you know, and I want some good things to happen.” Emily pasted a smile on her face. “So let’s just concentrate on the good. I’m really excited for you and Kelsey.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Elizabeth sat down on the sofa and reached for the remote. A long soak in the bath and a nap had been all she’d needed to get some energy back. She flicked through the channels, then settled on Oprah. She dragged a pillow in front of her, holding it against her chest, and prepared to relax.

Around ten minutes later, she heard some muffled voices outside her door—and she sighed, recognizing Sonny, Cody, and Max. Elizabeth got to her feet and shuffled to the door, pulling it open.

“Miss Webber, I got this—” Cody told her, but Elizabeth frowned at him, looking at Sonny standing in the doorway, glaring at her with a beleaguered Max just behind him.

“Got what? What’s wrong?”

“He’s trying to tell me I can’t come in without Jason here,” Sonny bit out. “You think I’m going to slap you around or something?”

“Uh…” Elizabeth blinked. “I’m not—I don’t—” She looked at Cody oddly, then sighed. It must have something Jason said. “No, come in, Sonny. It’s fine.” The least she could do for Jason was to do whatever she could to relieve tension with Sonny.

“Miss Webber—”

“It’s _fine_ , Cody.” Elizabeth stepped back, and Sonny stalked through the door. “I’m sorry, Sonny,” she said, determined not to make any waves with Jason’s best friend. She was putting Jason through enough — she could at least try to make nice with Sonny. “I’ll talk to Cody.”

“I know—” Sonny took a deep breath, turned to face her. “I know I was wrong. I’m sorry. I apologized. I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“Sonny, we’ve been through this. Really. I don’t think you’d hurt me.” At least not today. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me you were throwing this huge wedding?” he demanded. “The same church where Ric kidnapped Carly? A party at the hotel? Did you even _think_ about her before you did this?”

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest, looked at the floor, feeling the tendrils of shame curl in her throat all over again. “Jason talked to her over Christmas. I’m not really into church the way you and Jason are, so I didn’t think about it after he said it was fine. When Emily and I started talking — she just said Queen of Angels, and I didn’t think about it—”

“Of course not.” Sonny shook his head. “I thought you understood Jason. I _really_ thought you got it this time.”

Elizabeth blinked, stared at him. “What? What are you talking about?”

“When Courtney told me about that huge wedding—I knew it then—I knew she didn’t get him. Jason—” Sonny gestured towards the coffee table, and Elizabeth looked at it. Covered in wedding magazines and invitation samples. “I mean, do you think Jason wants _any_ of this?”

“He told me—” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “He didn’t tell me no—” Which wasn’t the same thing.

“When has he _ever_ told you no?” Sonny demanded. “What? _Once_?”

“I—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, feeling her lungs start to burn. She pressed her fist against her chest. “But he talked to Carly,” she said again. “He said it was okay—”

“What is she supposed to say? And what about me? What about Michael? You think _any_ of us want to go back there?”

“I—” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“No, you don’t. You never do. It’s _always_ about you, Elizabeth. You think that I don’t see that? It’s always about what you need. How many times did you play with Jason? Shoving Lucky in his face? Zander? Ric?” Sonny shook his head. “I thought you were different this time. I thought you’d grown up. But you’re still the selfish little girl who runs away when things get hard.”

“Not like that—” She closed her eyes. “That’s not—” Elizabeth tried to take a deep breath, but her breath caught in her throat, and she almost choked on it. She turned away from Sonny.

Inhale slowly. Count to fifteen. Exhale. Inhale slowly—

“I’m sorry,” Sonny said after a long minute. His voice was quieter. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You’re right.” Hot tears snaked their way down her cheeks. “You’re _right_. I didn’t think at all. I just—I was so happy when he asked, and I wanted to be married to him. And it just—I just thought about what I wanted. I _am_ selfish.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I didn’t mean to forget about Carly.” She turned back to Sonny. “I know you think it’s my fault this is happening—all of it—”

Sonny blinked rapidly, put his hands up. “Listen—”

“Maybe it is. Maybe I do just think about myself too much,” she murmured. “I should think more about Jason. I shouldn’t be making his life _harder_.” And that wasn’t that all she’d done for months? For years? Give him one more thing to worry about?

“Uh—” Sonny scratched his temple. “I didn’t expect you to agree—”

“I just—Jason goes to church almost every week,” Elizabeth told him, desperate for Sonny to understand that she’d just made a mistake. “He still goes, so when Emily asked where I wanted to get married—I thought he’d want that. I mean, was I _wrong_?”

“Well, no—but—” he paused. “I guess I just don’t know why you’d _want_ something big. After last year. He nearly married Courtney in that church. Less than a year ago. Why would you want it there?”

Because she didn’t think about Courtney, Elizabeth thought to herself. Until she’d gone to the church the day before, had seen that folder — Courtney had seemed like a bad dream. A nightmare that was over.

“I shouldn’t have come over like this,” Sonny said when she remained silent. “I’m sorry. I just—I was angry. And I wasn’t thinking. I have to think more,” he said more to himself. “I have to stop.”

“It’s okay,” she said faintly. She looked at him. “I know you love Jason, Sonny. He’s a brother to you. I don’t want to come between you.”

“You’re not. Christ—” Sonny scrubbed his hands over his face, seemed to look at something in the distance. “I think sometimes I just—I want to scream at the world,” he said finally. “I don’t always have a reason. Everything is wrong. And I don’t know how to stop it.”

Elizabeth rubbed the side of her face. “It’s fine. Your delivery might leave something to be desired, but you’re not wrong. This wedding—it’s not Jason. And he deserves it to be about him. I’ll—I’ll fix it.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Sonny muttered. “Don’t—damn it.” He spun on his heel, jerked open the door, only to see Cody standing there. “Get out of my way,” he said, shoving the guard back and stalking around the corner to his penthouse.

“Miss Webber?”

“I’m fine.” Elizabeth brushed at her cheeks, looked at the concerned guard, and forced a smile on her face. “I’m fine. Thanks, Cody. Did—did Jason tell you Sonny couldn’t come in when he’s not here?”

“He did—”

“Okay. I’m fine,” she told him again, and this time Cody got the message and closed the door, leaving Elizabeth alone.

**The Cellar: Office**

Jason knocked lightly on Carly’s door, and she sprang up from her desk. “Jason! I’ve been thinking about you all day.” She dragged him into the office, closing the door behind them.

“Is this going to make my day worse?” he asked with a sigh as he walked over to look at Morgan in the bassinet. He adjusted the infant’s blanket before turning back to Carly, who was scowling at him. “You usually mean well, but—”

“You _wish_ all we had to deal with were my plans,” she muttered, folding her arms. “No, I was thinking about you because the invitations came, and Mama found out from Taggert that Elizabeth talked him into going to the ceremony. Did you know?”

“I did,” Jason said, blinking with surprise. “I knew she was inviting Taggert and Baldwin. I didn’t think they’d _go_ —”

“Well, they’re softies,” Carly said. “Seriously, Jase. Sonny is going to _flip_ —”

Jason winced, looked away, then scratched his temple. “Too late. He’s not happy about any of it. The size of the wedding. The church. He thinks we should get married in the courthouse.”

“He would. He .” Carly lifted her brows. “I was surprised when Elizabeth talked to me about the guest list. She thought I should know if there were people who should be invited since I’ve planned a few of these—”

“A few?”

“Don’t start.” But she was relieved to see him cracking jokes—even at her expense. “She didn’t want to mess anything up—but Sonny’s never cared about any of that crap. I told her to talk to Bernie—since his brother was who I usually asked.”

“Thanks. He helped out—”

“So, what brings you by?” Carly asked. “You only come here when you’re avoiding something. _Is_ it the wedding? Do you want it to be smaller? Because, listen, it’s probably too late for that—”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Jason told her. “Don’t look at me like that. I _don_ _’t_. Elizabeth can plan whatever she wants. As long as we’re married at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter to me. I just want her to be happy.”

“Okay,” Carly said slowly. She didn’t buy that for a second. “Then—is it about the tests I’m not supposed to know about?” Jason’s head snapped around to look at her. Whatever lightness she’d inspired earlier had disappeared.

“Yeah, after you came here last week, I _might_ have said something to Mama about things not being okay. She got worried and went to talk to Emily. Apparently, Elizabeth was waiting on some test results and went radio silent after they were supposed to come in.”

Jason stared at her, then looked away. “I can’t get into it, Carly.”

“Okay. Is that another reason you’re on board with this wedding? Because Elizabeth is sick, and you want her to have whatever she wants?” Carly asked, hesitantly. “I’m not sure that’s a _great_ way to handle it—”

“I came to check on you because Sonny’s been aggravated a lot lately, and he tends to take it out on you,” Jason cut in. “So—”

“He came by yesterday, wanting to see the boys. I told him not without therapy or you.” Carly sighed. “And I did that knowing full well he’d never ask you and I didn’t want you in the middle of it. I was thinking maybe I was too hard on him.”

Jason frowned at her, drawing his brows down with a shake of his head. “What do you mean? Are you having second thoughts about leaving—”

“No, I needed to be out of that situation,” Carly admitted. “I know I made the right choice for me. I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing with the boys. With Michael.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it would help if he saw them.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me look at my schedule this week. I could bring Michael over to hang out for a few hours—”

“Jason, I don’t want to add any burdens—”

“You’re not. You didn’t ask. And my life would be easier if Sonny got himself under control, so—” Jason nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Jason. I just—I wish we could skip to the part where this is all over, but it never seems to be finished, does it?” Carly asked.

“No,” Jason said on a long breath, “it doesn’t.”

“You’ll let me know if I can do anything for you or Elizabeth, right?” Carly asked.

“We’re fine—”

“Jason.” Carly waited for him to look at her. Meet her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. I can take the hint, but don’t lie to me, either.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll call about taking Michael to see Sonny.”

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

Jason frowned when Cody stepped in front of the door, blocking him from going inside. “What’s wrong?” he asked, dreading creeping up his spine. “Did Sonny try to come over?” Damn it—

“He did. And Miss Webber heard us, so she came to the door and insisted on letting him in.” Cody paused. “I didn’t hear much, so they didn’t argue, but she looked like she’d been crying when he left.”

Jason closed his eyes, then nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s—I know what I told you, but Elizabeth is her own person, and her orders come first. You get that, right?” Jason asked the guard. “She will _always_ come first.”

“Yeah.” Cody nodded slowly. “Yeah, I got it, boss. I remember.”

“Good. You’re done for the night, thanks.”

Jason pushed the door open, frowning when he saw Elizabeth pacing from the fireplace to the window by the pool table, then back as she spoke on the phone. The coffee table was exploding with papers—her wedding binder, he realized, his stomach sinking. With papers pulled out and sections strewn out on any available surface.

She looked at him, and he could see the faint tear stains Cody had mentioned. “I’ll be done in a minute,” Elizabeth said to him, before turning back to the phone. “Yeah. Yeah, I appreciate it. I know it’s last minute, but it’s important. No—no, I promise, I’m not turning Bridezilla on you. You did a great job. I was the one who was wrong—”

“Elizabeth—”

She shook her head, then passed him to grab her purse from the desk. She took out her wallet. “Yeah, let the vendors know that if there are any change fees—” She reeled off her bank card—the bank card he knew was attached her own checking account, not one of his. Jason removed his coat, wondering if she’d just canceled the entire damn wedding—

He was going to _kill_ Sonny.

He picked up her jacket, slung as usual over the desk chair, and hung it up with hers, wondering how he was going to handle this.

“Okay. I appreciate it,” she repeated. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Elizabeth snapped her phone shut and looked at him. “Don’t get mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m _worried_ —what did Sonny say to you?” he demanded.

“Don’t be mad at him either. I can’t fix everything. I thought about it,” she admitted. “But you already went to so much trouble at the church for security, so I can’t change that unless we reschedule the whole thing, and I don’t want to do that—”

She was _still_ planning to marry him, so some of the muscles in his stomach unclenched. “You don’t have to change anything—”

“But I canceled the caterer. I threw around Edward’s name to get that done, so I think we might not get screwed on the contract too much. He’s always telling me to do that, so—” She took a deep breath — and he watched her pause, knowing she was counting to fifteen.

“Sit down—” Jason said, taking her by her hips, steering her backward to the sofa. “You were supposed to relax today—”

“I did. I took a nap, and I had a bath. I’m fine. I’m just tired,” Elizabeth told him. “I thought maybe I could just cancel the reception—”

“Hey—” Jason took her hands in his. “Sonny doesn’t get to have a say in our wedding—”

“No, but you didn’t either. And I know you’re going to tell me you don’t care,” Elizabeth said when Jason opened his mouth. “And I know that’s true. But _I_ care. I want you to have a good time—”

“I will—”

“Jason—” She pressed her lips together. “I canceled the caterer,” she repeated. “I kept the cakes, though, because I really wanted that chocolate fudge.”

“Elizabeth, what are we going to eat?” Jason asked with a laugh that was threaded with more nerves than humor. He didn’t know what to do with this side of her. “You can have whatever you want—”

“What I want is for this to be _our_ wedding. Not mine. So I’m going to tell Taggert and Scott I appreciated them agreeing to come to the ceremony, but that I was trimming the guest list. I can’t cut all of the guests,” Elizabeth continued, “and because I invited business associates, we can’t cancel the reception altogether, but I got rid of a lot of the decorations and some of the flowers in the church—”

Jason leaned forward, cut off her stream of words with his mouth. She sank into him, curling her fist in his shirt. “I love you. You don’t have to cut _anything_ or anyone you want to have there—”

“It’s too late. I called Eli’s, and they were a little surprised,” Elizabeth admitted, “but they agreed to cater. And Bobbie said that she can get Don to whip up things from Kelly’s—chili and sandwiches—I made sure he’s going to have your usual. Plus, I also talked Edward into letting me use the Grille’s kitchen for all of that, and I’m grabbing a few things from their menu because of the chicken and fish options I put on the RSVP card—”

Jason just shook his head. “I wouldn’t have cared about any of it— _what_ did Sonny say?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“It does to me.”

She hesitated, then sighed, staring at her lap. “He just reminded me that sometimes I make things all about me. And that’s true—” Elizabeth frowned at him when he swore, “Don’t shake your head. You _know_ that’s true. I can’t—I can’t fix that. I can’t go back in time and not hurt you—”

“Damn it, I’m going to kill him—”

“He was trying to help in his own, really aggravating way—” Elizabeth grabbed his hand as Jason started to stand up. “I can’t. We both know that the scales aren’t balanced. I hurt you more than you ever hurt me—”

“I don’t give a damn—”

“But _I_ do. And it’s important to me that I make sure I put you first when I can.” She bit her lip. “I can’t—I can’t change my mind about the baby. I’m sorry. I know you want me to—”

“Elizabeth—”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the sentencing. That wasn’t fair. And I definitely should have believed you about Ric. And Lucky. _And_ Zander,” Elizabeth said, with a wince as Jason just shook his head. “I can’t do anything about all of that. But I can—at the very least—make sure that the happiest day of _my_ life is not a day _you_ have to wince and get through.”

“It was never going to be like that,” Jason told her. She pressed her lips together in a mutinous line and glared at him, he sighed. “But if you’re telling me you went to all this trouble so I could have a pastrami on rye on our wedding day, I guess I can’t be that mad.”

Elizabeth sighed. “You get it.”

“No,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I don’t. But this is important to you, and I’m not going to argue.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to cut guests. The menu—that’s fine.”

“You don’t really want Taggert and Scott at the wedding. You told me that,” Elizabeth said, “but I didn’t care—”

“Did you want to invite the Vegas?” Jason asked. “The Tagliattis? Did you want to check the guest list with my business manager to make sure you invited the right people and didn’t insult anyone?”

“Jason—”

“Thank you. For doing that. I didn’t think about it,” he admitted. “It does make things easier. Sonny and I should pay more attention to that kind of thing. Especially now that we have kids.” He paused. “So, if you’re inviting my people, I want you to have your people there.”

“Even if they’re a DA and a cop?” Elizabeth asked skeptically. “I only invited Lucky because of Emily and Nikolas—Oh, God, I invited my ex-fiancée—How do you put up with me?” she asked, putting her head in her hands.

“Well, technically, Carly’s _my_ ex, and you invited her,” Jason said, amused now that the storm seemed to have passed, and the worst thing that had happened was he would actually get to eat the food he liked. Most importantly, she was still marrying him.

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yeah, right.”

“As long as you don’t drag Zander back from wherever he disappeared to, I think we can say it’s even—” Jason waited, relieved when she smiled. “Thank you. For going to this trouble for me. You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I did.” Elizabeth brushed her fingertips against his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	23. Chapter Seventy-Three

_And I don't wanna let this go_  
 _I don't wanna lose control_  
 _I just wanna see the stars with you_  
 _And I don't wanna say goodbye_  
 _Someone tell me why_  
 _I just wanna see the stars with you_  
\- The Fault in Our Stars, Troye Sivan

* * *

_Thursday, January 8, 2004_

**Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room**

Jason found Sonny sipping coffee and standing by the window, overlooking the city. Sonny turned at the sound of the door, then cleared his throat when he met Jason’s eyes. “I was expecting to see you last night,” Sonny said, setting his coffee cup on the table.

“You nearly did.” Jason closed the front door on Max’s concerned face. “You have a problem with me, with the way I’m living my life, you bring it to me. You stay away from Elizabeth.”

“I didn’t—” Sonny hesitated. “I didn’t mean to upset her,” he admitted. “I didn’t think she’d—” He looked away. “I didn’t think she’d listen.”

“You went there to pick a fight because you thought she’d fight back. Because I won’t. Because Carly won’t. You need someone to blame, and I’m done with it being Elizabeth.”

“I don’t—” Sonny rubbed his chest. “Fine. Okay. I blame her. I’m trying not to. I know it’s not all her fault—”

“ _None_ of it—”

“She is the _reason_ Ric is still alive,” Sonny snapped. “If she hadn’t asked for it, he’d be dead. So, yeah, Jason, that is her fault. And it’s _your_ fault for listening to her.”

Jason curled his hands into fists at his side. He very nearly reminded Sonny that if either of them had killed Ric back in April when they’d learned he’d pretended to sleep with Carly after someone had slipped drugs into her drink at The Cellar, but whatever momentary satisfaction he’d get wouldn’t be worth it in the end. “I am done with this argument. We’ve been having it for months, and it doesn’t change anything. You went to my pregnant fiancée three weeks before the wedding and called her selfish.”

Sonny winced. “I—”

“I came home, and she was talking about it being too late to cancel the reception or the church, so all she could do was cut the guest list and cancel the caterer—You made her cry.” Jason stared at his boss, at his partner—at his best friend and family. “You know what she’s been through. You know what she means to me, and you decided to go after her about something that _doesn_ _’t_ matter.”

“It does matter if Ric comes after this wedding—”

“ _You_ don’t even believe what you saying right now,” Jason bit out. “You don’t like that you’re not in control. That no one is listening to you. That Carly left and refuses to let you see the boys. That I didn’t listen about Ric — and you don’t like that I have my own life.”

“I don’t—” Sonny scowled. “I don’t give a crap about any of that. And I know what Elizabeth means to you—I knew before you did, jackass! I knew _years_ ago—”

“Then why?” Jason challenged. “ _Why_ would you do that to her?”

Sonny stared back at him. “I didn’t think she’d listen,” he repeated. “I was just—I was angry. You’re right. You weren’t listening. Carly won’t forgive me, so I went to yell at Elizabeth about Ric —and I saw all that crap on the coffee table—it’s not you, man. Just like last year—”

“It’s nothing like last year,” Jason cut in. “I don’t care what I eat. What I wear. Where we get married. How many people there—I don’t care who she invites. None of that matters to me. I just want _her_. And whatever she wants—if I can get it for her—that’s what I’m gonna do—”

Sonny growled, but Jason didn’t wait for him to respond. “And I’m sorry if you think that makes me weak. If you think loving her, putting her first, giving her what she needs and wants makes me less — then that’s _your_ problem, not mine. I don’t need to cut people down to be strong, Sonny. That’s you.”

Sonny’s burned as he stalked towards him. “What did you just say to me—”

“You might have lost control in the minute you locked Carly in that room, Sonny, but that’s not an excuse for what you did yesterday. For the way you’ve been treating Carly or Elizabeth. Or me.” Jason put his hands at his waist, then with a shake of his head, looked at the floor. “You think it makes you weak to ask for help. It’s not worth it to you. Carly and the boys—they’re not worth it.”

“You have no right—”

“I was going to bring Michael to see you today,” Jason told him, and Sonny pressed his lips together. “I told Carly I’d find the time because I thought it might help.”

“But now you won’t do that because I made your girlfriend cry,” Sonny said sarcastically.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sonny. She’s _Elizabeth_. The woman who stood in front of you, barely lucid, demanding the chance to help you find Carly. She saved my life, lied for me—lied for _you_ —” Jason reminded him. “Elizabeth has never given you a reason not to trust her. And you went to our home where she’s supposed to feel safe, and you made her feel like crap because she wanted to have a big wedding.”

Sonny exhaled slowly. “I know all of that,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know who she is. I just—I forget sometimes.”

“And that’s why you can’t come near her when I’m not there,” Jason told him. “Because I don’t trust you. She and the baby are my priority, Sonny. That’s my family. After everything I’ve done for yours, I’m asking for you just to respect that. You have to be my best man because Elizabeth invited business associates, but if you do anything to mess this up for her again—” Jason didn’t finish. He just shook his head, then left.

**General Hospital: Conference Room**

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth told the other survivors. “But, this going to be my last meeting for a while.”

“Oh?” Renee folded her arms across her chest. “Why? Because you’re getting married? I-I saw it in the paper—”

“Yeah, and—” Elizabeth paused, looked around the room, into the eyes of other women who had been through the same nightmare. “I found out last week that I have a pretty serious pregnancy complication. I have to rest and keep my stress down. I might even have to deliver early to protect the baby.” _And myself._ But she wasn’t going to think about that. Couldn’t think about that.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Veronica said, sitting up. “That sucks. You talked a lot about how much you want this baby.”

“Yeah. And while I really think this group has helped, I’m not sure my blood pressure would appreciate this right now,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I hope you will continue to meet. As long as you need to. And I’ll—I’ll be back,” she said, a bit faintly. She wasn’t sure that was true, but she wanted it to be.

“Will we get someone else to lead the group?” Dana asked. She bit her nail. “I don’t know if I want someone new—”

“Well, I talked to Gail about that, and she said as long as someone over the age of eighteen signs for the room,” Elizabeth said, “she’d be happy to keep sponsoring the group. She offered to take over, but she wanted that to be up to you all.”

Dana exchanged a look with Veronica, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I can sign for the room if you want. We’ll see.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Renee said. She picked at the sleeve of her sweater. “I—they ran a video of you at the hearing. And it was—it meant a lot. And I don’t care if he appeals —” She swallowed hard. “It meant a lot that you wanted him to pay for us, too.”

“I was okay with the plea just being for you and the DA,” Veronica admitted, “but, yeah, I think a part of me wanted more. I’m glad I didn’t have to testify,” she added, “but knowing he’ll be in jail for at least fifty-seven years—That makes me feel better. I’ll be able to sleep at night.”

“I used to tell myself that what happened to me that night in 1998,” Elizabeth said, “that it was over. That I _made_ it over a long time ago. And I guess it’s true now in a way it wasn’t before. It’s legally over. The man responsible is in jail. Scott told me that he’s not appealing his sentence. He can’t hurt me again. But I also think it’s not fair to say that to myself. Because telling myself it’s over — it only makes me feel weak when it does come back.”

She paused. “It will always be part of my story. For a long time, it defined me. One day, the nightmares will go away again, but it’s okay if they come back sometimes. Once in a while, I get reminded of what happened. It doesn’t make me weak. It doesn’t make me anything except a survivor. Because it’s a memory now, and memories only hurt you if you let them.”

She reached over to take Renee’s hand, smiled at her. “And I am _done_ letting them.”

**Kelly** **’s: Diner**

Taggert shifted nervously in his chair as Portia Robinson hung up her jacket and scarf on a hook next to the door. She turned and flashed him the same smile he’d seen at Luke’s a few weeks ago.

“Hey, you got here first.” She sauntered over to the table and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I was trying to beat you, but you’re always early!”

Taggert squinted. “Early? You’re five minutes late.”

Portia arched her brow as she reached for the menu. “That’s on time for me.”

“Fair enough. Uh, I had a question for you.” He picked up a napkin, then set it down before he ripped it into small pieces. He just wanted something to do with his hands. “I got invited to this thing in a couple of weeks, but I don’t want to go alone.”

Portia put her hand on her chin and fluttered her lashes at him. “What am I saving you from?”

“It’s this wedding. Just the ceremony,” he added. “I can’t go to the reception. I shouldn’t even go to the ceremony,” he muttered. “But the bride—she just has a way of—” Taggert cleared his throat. “You probably know the name. Justus works for him—”

“Oh, the Morgan wedding? Tamika said it’s going to be _gorgeous_ —except, apparently, the bride went crazy and canceled her fancy gourmet menu—” Portia frowned at the menu. “It’s going to be catered by this ribs joint and Kelly’s.” She put the menu down, stared at him. “Jason Morgan. _You_ got invited to _his_ wedding?”

“No, I got invited to _Elizabeth Webber_ ’s wedding,” Taggert said carefully. “She happens to be marrying him.”

Portia drew her brows together. “Uh—”

“Listen. Elizabeth—she was just a kid the first time I met her. She—you probably saw it in the news. What happened to her.”

“Yeah, my sister said that was your case.” Portia tipped her head. “You’ve known her that long?”

“Yeah. And she’s had a lot of hard hits. A year after her attack, her boyfriend died in a fire. Well, we thought he did—it doesn’t matter. She grieved hard and then got put through hell when he came back—then she was kidnapped, and the Lansing cra[—” Taggert sat back. “She’s a good kid. And she invited me to the wedding because she thinks she owes me something.”

“Well, you helped catch the guy who attacked her. It’s nice of her—”

“And if she were marrying anyone else, I’d go without complaint, but—” He winced. “Does it _have_ to be Jason Morgan?”

“Well, I don’t know her. Or Jason. But I know my sister and Justus, and they both seem excited for them. Do you not want to go?”

“I don’t.” Taggert winced. “But I do.”

“Ah. You want the bride to be happy,” Portia said slowly, “but you are very conflicted because you would not mind if the groom ended up doing a long stretch in Sing Sing—which would then make the bride unhappy again.”

“Exactly.” Taggert grinned. “You get me.”

“You’re overthinking it, Marcus.” Portia folded her arms on the table, leaned forward. “It’s a wedding. You’re gonna watch someone you like get married to someone she loves. You’ve seen her go through a lot of bad stuff. This will be a nice balance to all of that.”

He sighed, leaned back against his chair. “I tried to tell her no,” he admitted. “Me and Baldwin—the DA—but she just—” Taggert wiggled his fingers. “I don’t know. Whammied us.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Portia told him.

“Sweet, huh?”

“Yeah. And it’s probably what makes you one of the _only_ good cops I’ve ever met.” She smiled at him. “So, yes, if you’re asking me to be your plus one, I would love to.” Her grin turned wicked. “We can sit with my sister and Justus.”

Taggert winced. “Do we have to?”

**General Hospital: Cafeteria**

“I can’t believe you wanted to have lunch here,” Emily said, setting down her tray with an anemic ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water.

“I feel bad I couldn’t go to lunch with you guys at Kelly’s yesterday,” Elizabeth told her as she unwrapped a plastic fork and started to mix together her salad. “And since I had an appointment today—” She shrugged. “Did you get my voicemail about the catering changes?”

“I did,” Emily said slowly, “but I thought you were having some sort of nervous breakdown. Are you really having chili at your reception?”

“Yes.”

“And am I allowed to ask why? Or is this a Bridezilla episode that we’re just going to whistle past?” Emily asked, with a wiggle of her fingers.

“I realized that you and I had been planning this wedding for me. Jason said he doesn’t care, and I know that’s probably true—”

“It _really_ is—”

“Except he does hate formal events. He hates getting dressed up,” Elizabeth told her. “And he agreed because _I_ wanted this. So the least I can do is make sure the food he eats is something _he_ wanted.”

Emily pursed her lips. “Uh huh. I mean, sure, but couldn’t you have figured that out two weeks ago when we chose the menu in the first place?”

“I could have. I didn’t. I made a mistake.” Elizabeth pushed her food around on her plate. “I’ve only been thinking about myself, and Jason gets enough of that from Sonny. He doesn’t need it from me. Not when this is something I can give him.”

Her best friend looked at her for a long moment, then took a deep breath. “How bad were the test results?”

Elizabeth’s hand stilled, then she set down the fork and met Emily’s eyes. “Em—”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve enjoyed planning the wedding, and I disagree that you’ve only planned it for yourself, but that’s not the point. Mom’s been very quiet, Dad looks worried. And you’ve said nothing. So I’m just—” Emily paused. “I am someone you can count on, Elizabeth, to do whatever you need me to do. Let me be that person today. Tell me what we’re dealing with, how I can help, and then we’ll put it away.”

“Why does it matter if I tell you now or later?” Elizabeth asked dully, staring at the wilted lettuce.

“Because I think part of the reason you went a little crazy last night and thought about canceling your entire wedding is that something is going on. Something big and terrible. I understand if you and my brother want to keep it quiet. I really do. But ignoring it won’t make it less real.”

“It’s hard to ignore it,” Elizabeth said slowly, “when it’s taking over my life. I’m stepping back from the support group — I’m going to more doctor’s appointments—and Jason is always looking at me like I’m going to stop breathing at any minute. I can’t even be mad at him about that because he’s—” She closed her eyes. “He’s right.”

“Elizabeth—” Emily sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flaring. “What—”

“That sounds so _dramatic_ ,” Elizabeth muttered. She swiped at an errant tear as it slid down her cheek. “I have something called CTEPH. A bunch of letters that basically means that I had more blood clots a few months ago that dissolved on their own but left scar tissue in my lungs. No—the blood vessels in lungs,” she corrected.

Emily sat back, exhaled a long slow, and careful breath. “Scar tissue in the lungs,” she repeated softly. “Which makes it harder to breathe.”

“And more difficult for oxygen to circulate in my blood, which can lead to heart issues, along with other terrible things. There’s a surgery that can correct it, but I can’t have it while pregnant.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Right now, I’m okay. I have a portable oxygen tank. My vitals are steady, and my oxygen levels are normal,” Elizabeth told her. “Monica and Kelly tell me I’m as healthy as can be expected. If I can maintain this level of health, I could get to maybe thirty-two weeks without any health crises.”

“But if you don’t?”

“Then, my heart and lungs could be damaged permanently, and the baby could get hurt.” Elizabeth placed a protective hand over her son. “Right now, the plan is to avoid stress and to rest as much as possible. To monitor everything very carefully. Because I made it very clear I am not delivering until the baby’s health is in danger.”

Emily was quiet for a long time. “Until the _baby_ is in danger,” she said. “Not you.”

“Your mother and Kelly would like me to deliver early. They suggested twenty-eight weeks. I said no. I want to wait as long as I can. I don’t want the baby in the NICU—”

“And I imagine Jason is in favor of any plan where you get to live without needing a double transplant.”

“Probably. I—” Elizabeth looked at Emily. “I haven’t really let him have a say. I know that. And he’s trying to be okay with that. For me—there’s no choice.”

“Okay.” Emily two fingers across her lips. “Okay. Well, okay.” She cleared her throat. “I, uh, guess if you’re healthy right now, there’s no point in having this argument.”

“I think that’s how Jason feels,” Elizabeth admitted. “The condition is rare. Not a lot of pregnant women have had it, and those that were diagnosed around this stage—there’s only two. Neither ended all that well. Um…” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“I knew it wasn’t good when you didn’t tell me,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. _I_ wish this wasn’t happening. I wish I could make it stop.”

“Yeah, well, I chose to stay in that house even after knowing Ric was drugging me, so this—” Elizabeth forced herself to continue. “I made that choice. And I’m not going to let my child pay for it.”

“That’s—” Emily pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “No, I said we’d talk about it, and I’d put it away. You’re in good health, for now, so we’ll just concentrate on that. But if that changes—”

“I know.” Elizabeth smiled faintly. “But for now—I’m marrying the man I love in a few weeks, and I just—I want to let go of the rest of it.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

**Harborview Towers: Elevator**

It had struck Jason as he sat in the office at the warehouse earlier that day with a pile of contracts to sign, three meetings with warehouse managers, bookies, and other men who ran pieces of Sonny’s sprawling organization that he was running everything and still trying to do his old job.

He had been a silent partner when Sonny had approached him about the coffee export front four years earlier — Sonny had been in charge, delegating and overseeing the gambling, the smuggling, and the legitimate business. Jason had been the troubleshooter, enforcing orders that Sonny issued.

He couldn’t remember the last time Sonny had given an order to anyone that wasn’t about Ric Lansing.

When Jason had to skip a doctor’s appointment with Elizabeth that day because of a missing shipment somewhere in the Caribbean, he’d been irritated. As the clock crawled towards six, Jason knew he had three more hours of work before he could go home.

And Sonny was in his penthouse, probably draining another bottle of bourbon. He was separated from his family by his own choices, his own lack of accountability—

Jason would be missing dinner with Elizabeth _again_ because Sonny refused to step up.

He’d looked at Bernie, who looked as tired as he did and told him abruptly to cancel anything that was left. He’d deal with it in the morning, then he’d called Elizabeth to find out what she wanted for dinner, and left.

Now, as the elevator climbed towards the penthouse, Jason knew he had to make changes. He had to either force Sonny to get his head out of his ass and get back to work or delegate more authority to someone else. He couldn’t keep going like this.

Neither of those options were good. He didn’t want to fight with Sonny anymore, wasn’t even sure he knew how to get through to the other man. Maybe if Jason could deliver Ric’s head on a spike to him — that might help.

And for Jason to delegate authority to people under him sent a signal in and out of the organization that there were serious problems between Jason and Sonny—that was the last thing he needed.

The elevator opened, and Jason stepped off, turning towards home. He just wanted to stop thinking about all of it tonight and have dinner with the woman he loved.

Instead, he heard a door open from behind him and Max’s murmured question. Jason stopped, locked eyes with Cody on his penthouse, then turned to face Sonny as his partner came around his corner.

“Jason—”

“What is it?” Jason asked flatly. “I want to get dinner to Elizabeth while it’s hot.”

“I—I, uh, was thinking about this morning. I don’t want to fight,” Sonny said. “You’re right. We keep going around in circles, and we’re getting nowhere.”

Surprised, but cautiously optimistic, Jason nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“And I’m sure you got a lot to do in the next few weeks with the, uh, wedding—” Sonny scratched his temple. “So I was thinking maybe we just figure out how to get back on track after that. After the wedding, we’ll focus on finding Ric and getting rid of him for good—”

Still not sure how they’d manage that without breaking his promise to Elizabeth and Carly, Jason nodded anyway. “Yeah, when I get back—”

“Get back?” Sonny furrowed his brow. “From where?”

“I’m—” Jason squinted. “I’m getting _married_ , Sonny. And then I’m taking Elizabeth out of town for a few weeks.”

“ _Weeks_?” Sonny scowled. “How long? Where? _Why_?”

“I don’t know. Maybe two.” Jason would prefer to get her away from this town until the day she gave birth, but that would definitely be pushing it. Elizabeth deserved a break, and he wanted to be alone with her for longer than a few hours when they slept. They both deserved some time after these last few months. “And I don’t know where yet. We haven’t talked about it—”

“You _can_ _’t_ go away for that long,” Sonny snapped. “Two weeks?”

“You’ve run things without me for years,” Jason retorted, hoping to break Sonny out this insanity. “Bernie and Justus have things organized. Just go into the office. Do what they tell you to—”

“You didn’t even ask—”

“This isn’t a corporate job, Sonny. I don’t apply for vacation time—”

“You answer to _me_!” Sonny exploded, his voice reaching a new pitch of anger. He slapped a hand against his chest. “You go where _I_ tell you to—”

“The hell I do—”

The penthouse door opened behind him, and Jason turned as Elizabeth stepped out, concern on her face. “What’s going on?” she asked, folding her arms. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you _ever_ stay where you’re supposed to? This is _business_!” Sonny roared, as he started to step past Jason. With the hand not holding the paper bag, Jason shoved Sonny back.

“In the hallway?” Elizabeth said dubiously. Then she winced. “‘I’m sorry.” She stepped back, started to close the door, but Sonny wasn’t finished.

“Do you think everything is about you? That we need _your_ opinion on everything—”

Jason shoved their dinner at Cody, then looked at Elizabeth. “Go inside,” he told her, then turned back to Sonny without waiting to see if she’d listen.

He heard the penthouse door close behind him. “If you _ever_ talk to her like that again—”

“What are you going to do?” Sonny taunted, tipping his chin up, defiant. “Nothing? You _need_ to put her in her place—”

Jason’s muscles tensed, and he curled his hands into fists at his side. “Go home,” he said flatly. “We’re done.”

Then he walked away from him, grabbed their dinner, and shoved open the door to the penthouse, slamming it behind him.

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

Elizabeth turned away from the window when Jason stormed in, tossing the paper bag on the desk. She bit her thumbnail as she slowly approached him. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed inside.”

“Yeah, you should have—” Jason looked at her, then sighed. Shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. It’s—you heard yelling, and I know you wanted to help.”

“I just made it worse—”

“You didn’t. No one could,” he added on a mutter.” Jason stripped off his leather jacket, then grabbed Elizabeth’s jacket she always left on the desk chair. He hung both up in the closet. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about it right now?”

“No, it’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m hungry anyway. We’ll just eat dinner.”

“Okay.” Jason picked up the bag, carried it to the coffee table, and started to unpack. As he handed her the plastic container with the chicken she’d ordered from the Grille, he said, “You haven’t asked about a honeymoon.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth frowned. “I didn’t really think it’d be possible right now. I mean, I got those tickets to Italy for you, but I knew we couldn’t use them. I figured we’d take one in the summer—” She pressed her lips together. “But, I guess maybe we shouldn’t plan anything that far out.”

His breath hitched as the meaning sunk in. Making plans for after the baby was born felt different than they had at Christmas. Were they actually plans or just hopes? Dreams that might never happen?

Jason handed her a set of utensils. “You need a break from Port Charles. You need to be away from stress and time to rest—”

“Jason, I understand,” Elizabeth told him. “Things are crazy with Sonny—and if we left, he might take it out on Carly or the boys. Not that I want to be in the middle of it but better us than her—”

Jason shook his head. “ _I_ need a break,” he said softly.

She was quiet for a minute. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jason told her, relieved she hadn’t pressed him for more. “I’ll look into some places nearby. You can’t fly, and I don’t want to be driving for hours. But I want—I want time. With you. Maybe two weeks, if I can manage it—”

“Two weeks—” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “That’s—I was thinking maybe a _weekend_ —”

He exhaled, leaned back against the sofa, and reached for her hand. He traced his fingertips over her engagement ring. “You don’t want to be alone with me for two weeks?” Jason asked her.

Elizabeth smiled, leaned forward to kiss him. “I want to be alone with you all the time,” she told him, her smile deepening. “But I understand it’s not always possible.”

“I’m going to make sure it’s possible.” He cupped the back of her head, drawing her back for another kiss. “How was the hospital?”

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged as she speared a piece of chicken with her fork. “Good. I felt like I spent the whole day there. I had a good meeting with the group—I’m going to miss them, but I know it’s important to take a break from that. And I told you on the phone — Kelly said all my levels are still normal. Monica was happy with my blood pressure. It came down a little.”

“Really?” Jason said, his brows rising. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Well, it was only two points, so not a drastic improvement, but she was still happy with it.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I had lunch with Emily. And I told her. About…” She cleared her throat. “And I was thinking—” She looked at him. “Do you think it would help if Sonny knew? And you could tell Carly. I think—I think if you want—”

“Carly knows something is up,” Jason admitted, “but I’m going to wait to tell her,” he said. “Because if I tell her, she’ll feel bad about Bobbie not knowing. And you’ll feel bad about it, too—”

“Right. And then I’ll think — well, if Bobbie knows, then I should tell Nikolas. And before you know it, I’ll be right where I didn’t want to be. Everyone worried.” Elizabeth sighed. “Still—”

“I’ll think about it, but Carly seemed okay with waiting. And I don’t know—” He paused. Elizabeth was right — if Sonny knew what was going on with her health, he might back off. He might get himself together.

But he also might not. He hadn’t backed down about Carly after all these weeks, despite what he’d put her through—despite knowing the trauma he’d caused her—and Carly was Sonny’s _wife_.

And Jason wasn’t sure he was ready to know exactly how Sonny would react to the news about Elizabeth’s health. If he wanted to face the reality of how far away their friendship felt right now.

“I’ll think about it,” Jason repeated. “But for now—I think you were right. You’re doing okay so far, and I just—let’s focus on right now.”

“Right.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Right now isn’t so bad, right?”

“Not bad at all.” He kissed her again, lingering over her mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	24. Chapter Seventy-Four

_You see colors no one else can see_  
 _In every breath you hear a symphony_  
 _You understand me like nobody can_  
 _I feel like my soul unfolding like a flower blooming_  
 _When this whole world gets too crazy_  
 _And there's nowhere left to go_  
 _I know you give me sanctuary_  
 _You're the only truth I know_  
 _You're the road back home_  
\- Safest Place to Hide, Backstreet Boys

* * *

_Saturday, January 31, 2004_

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

When the alarm buzzed, Elizabeth mumbled a curse and pressed her face into the pillow. She waited for Jason to turn off the alarm and leave her in peace so she could go back to sleep. Elizabeth had never been a morning person and was unlikely to develop that quality at this stage of her life.

When the alarm didn’t stop, she blearily opened one eye and glared at his side of the bed. His empty side of the bed. At the alarm clock on his side of the bed that was not….buzzing.

“Oh. Hell.” She wrinkled her nose and rolled onto her other side, carefully. It was _her_ alarm clock.

She propped herself up on her elbow, shoved her hair out of her eyes, and studied the irritating object, trying to remember why it had been set for six in the morning on a _Saturday_.

“We can always cancel our plans for the day.”

At the amused voice of her fiancé, Elizabeth rolled onto her back and hissed at the bright light filtering in through the open bathroom door. She pressed a hand over her eyes. “What? What’s going on?”

Jason chuckled and walked into the bedroom, rounding their bed, and turning off her alarm clock. “I mean, I think _some_ people might be disappointed, but I’m sure Father Coates will understand—”

“Father Coates—” Elizabeth’s eyes shot open, and she rose herself up on both of her elbows. “Oh my God, we’re getting _married_.”

“Yeah.” He leaned forward and gently brushed his mouth against hers. She could taste the flavor of his toothpaste, which hopefully made up for _her_ morning breath.

“Mmm, minty.” Her eyes drifted closed. “We’re getting married today, and tomorrow, we are escaping this insane asylum for two weeks of complete isolation.”

“Well, not _complete_ isolation,” Jason reminded her. He rubbed his thumb against her bottom lip. “We agreed to give Bobbie and Monica the contact information. And Justus.”

“Oh, I know. But they won’t interrupt us unless the world is exploding.” Elizabeth swung her legs over the side of the bed, rolling her eyes as Jason pulled her to her feet. “Thank you for that.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “I know how hard you had to work to make it happen. I’ve barely seen you.”

“I just have a few more things to do this morning, but after that, I’m all yours.” Jason’s fingers slid through her hair, brushing it away from her face. “Are you sure you’re okay with Seneca Falls?”

“Yes,” she insisted. “The Finger Lakes are gorgeous in the winter, and I love the cabin Bernie found for us.” Her forehead dropped against his bare chest. “Italy—it’ll be there when we’re ready.”

“I know.” He kissed the top of her head, but just closed his eyes. They stood there for a long moment, trying not to think about whether or not Italy would _ever_ be a reality for them.

Elizabeth forced a smile on her face and stepped back. “We said today we were going to be happy, remember? I’m going to spend the day getting ready to marry the _perfect_ man—” She laughed as he rolled his eyes. “And _you_ _’re_ going to make sure that nothing interrupts or ruins our day. We’ll get married—finally—and then we’ll spend the next two weeks all by ourselves.”

She stepped away from him, switching on the lamp on her side table.

“And you don’t have to worry—everyone in my bridal party is a medical professional.” Elizabeth turned back to him and smiled. “Except for Nikolas, but he’s not invited to the getting ready part.”

“I know. And I know Monica will take care of everything.”

“Exactly. So, go have breakfast with Lila, go to the warehouse, and whatever else is on the list. I need to be ready because Emily is coming over with the dress and you—” She poked his chest. “ _You_ need to be gone. She’s already annoyed that I refused to spend the night somewhere else.”

“You could have—”

“Being with you could never bring bad luck.” She pressed herself on the tips of her toes to kiss him again. “But I’m not willing to risk Emily’s wrath, so you’re not seeing the dress until I’m walking down the aisle.”

“Fair enough.” He framed her face in his hands. “We’re going to be okay,” Jason told her. “Whatever we need to do.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Brownstone: Kitchen**

Carly hung Michael’s tuxedo on the back of a chair and sat down, accepting the cup of coffee her mother handed her. “I had a moment,” she said, “when I woke up and realized what today is. This is the second time in less than a year that I’m going to Jason’s wedding.”

“Carly—”

“No, no…” Carly shook her head, swirling her spoon in the coffee. “No, it’s more just me marking the moment. I remember going to the church that day to finalize things. Courtney had changed the flowers at the last minute, and I was _so_ annoyed because I knew it had cost the florist double to get a different color at the last minute, and there were more of them than we planned—” Carly sighed. “I looked at Jason, going over the security one last time, and he wasn’t the least bit interested in any of it.”

“Well, interior design and floral arrangements aren’t his thing,” Bobbie said dryly. She sipped her coffee. “He didn’t really get involved this time either—”

“No, and I know there’s been other things going on since he proposed. I just—I was thinking about those flowers the other day when I was at Kelly’s, and Emily was talking to Don about the menu. That Elizabeth wanted to make sure everything was really fresh, and that Jason’s pastrami on rye was the best one he’d ever had—”

“She gave me a bit of a scare,” Bobbie admitted. She leaned against the kitchen island. “Canceling the caterer at the last minute, cutting the decorations in the church—I think Emily said Elizabeth tried to cancel the reception, but the invitations had already gone to business associates.”

“Jason doesn’t care about flowers or menus. He’d eat whatever you put in front of him,” Carly said. She looked at her mother. “But she went insane at the last minute to make sure their wedding day reflected him. I knew last year that Courtney was the wrong person for him. I just didn’t see it in time. And I wonder—”

When she broke off, Bobbie lifted her brows. “You wonder what?”

“If I had been more supportive or just a better friend in general,” Carly murmured, “if I had fought back when Jason wanted to tell Elizabeth about faking Sonny’s death, and Sonny said no—if things would have been different. Ric got a hold in all our lives because Jason was distracted. He’d married Brenda, the affair with Courtney, the murder trial—how much of that didn’t _have_ to happen?”

“Carly—”

“And look, I know it doesn’t do any good to think about that stuff most of the time,” Carly said. “But I just—I could have been a better friend.”

“Maybe that’s true. Jason also could have told Sonny to go to hell and told Elizabeth anyway. He did not have to marry Brenda or date Courtney. And Elizabeth didn’t have to date Ric. _You_ are not responsible for _their_ choices,” Bobbie told her.

“No, I know that.” Carly smiled, got to her feet. “I need to get Michael out of bed so that he can start getting ready. Lucas and Felix said they’d take him out for breakfast.” She rubbed her chest. “It should be Sonny. He’s Jason’s best man because that’s how this goes. Sonny and Jason should be spending this morning together, playing with Michael, getting ready. They did that last year.”

“Carly—”

“It’s so strange,” Carly continued, “to think of what’s changed. What can’t ever be the same again. But Jason’s getting married today, and to make up for nearly pushing him into marrying the wrong woman, I’m going to try to get along with Sonny today and not start a fight. Jason deserves this. And even though I’m not entirely sold on Elizabeth being the one—”

Bobbie rolled her eyes. “Honestly—”

Carly grinned. “Hush, Mama, I’m just kidding. I don’t have to like her to accept that he’s happier with her than he ever was with Courtney. Will you help me get Michael up? It’s a weekend, so he’s not going to be happy about being awake before noon.”

**Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom**

“I really hope it still fits,” Elizabeth said. She braced her hands on Emily’s elbows as she stepped gingerly into the dress. Emily worked the jeweled halter top up and over her waist, fluffing the tulle skirt as they went. It took almost five minutes before the dress had been sorted onto Elizabeth—and that was before Emily turned to begin buttoning the long line up her back.

They were only trying on the dress now because Elizabeth had had a terrible dream the night before that she’d burst out of the dress. When Emily had arrived that morning, Elizabeth had insisted Emily drag it out of the garment bag instead of changing into it at the church.

“It’s a good thing for you that having nimble fingers is part of my job description,” Emily said, grunting slightly as she finished the last button. “Well?” She turned Elizabeth towards the full-length mirror attached to her closet.

“Oh—” Elizabeth pressed her hands to her mouth, tears stinging her eyes. “Oh, it’s perfect. It’s _exactly_ what I wanted—”

“You look so amazing,” Emily said with a wide grin. “Just wait until Maxie gets her hands on your hair, and Lulu is coming over later to do your makeup. Plus, Jason left a bracelet for you because you didn’t want to buy something new and we didn’t have anything to match— _don_ _’t_ give me that look, he loves giving you things, and I like spending money—”

Elizabeth’s shoulders started to shake. She pushed away from Emily and went to the bed, sitting down in a cascade and swoosh of tulle. “Emily—”

“Do you need your oxygen—”

“No, no—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. Counted to fifteen. “I’m okay. We had an appointment yesterday. As long as I’m careful.” She slid her fingers over the skirt. “I just want today to be perfect.”

“It _will_ be,” Emily assured her. She sat next to Elizabeth, folding up pieces of the skirt. “Your dress is perfect. I personally approved the jewelry, and Maxie and Lulu are great at what they do. I also made sure Jason’s tux looks perfect—he bought a new one out of nowhere, which I thought was weird—”

He’d bought a new one after that day at the church when he’d found Elizabeth standing in the bridal suite, Elizabeth knew that. She’d found the receipt in his pocket when sorting laundry last week.

“But it’s perfectly fitted. I also called the wedding planner—the hotel is done, the church is getting the flowers as we speak. Oh, and I threatened Don at Kelly’s—”

“I really love you.” Elizabeth reached for Emily’s hands, squeezed. “You know that, right?”

“I love you, too. Elizabeth—”

“I just—I want this _so_ much. This dream. And I’m terrified,” she admitted in a soft voice. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to everything I want. The best friends in the world. The best family. The perfect guy. A beautiful baby. And I’m so scared because I could lose it all—”

She sucked in a sharp breath, ignoring the burn in her lungs at the motion. “I’m trying not to think about it. I told Jason I didn’t _want_ to think about it.” Elizabeth swiped at her cheeks. “But it’s hard not to.”

“I’m sure it is.” Emily waited for Elizabeth to look at her again. “Your appointment yesterday was good. You’re still okay. Your vitals are steady. We have oxygen tanks everywhere. Jason personally delivered them to the church and the hotel.”

“Of course he did,” Elizabeth said with a rueful laugh. “And I’m sure Monica has one in her car—”

“And I have one for the limo. We’re the oxygen squad.” Emily squeezed her hand. “You have been my best friend for _years_ , Elizabeth. Whenever I needed you, you were right there, ready to do battle. I can’t always do the same for you. Your dragons—” she sighed. “Sometimes they were too big for me to slay. But I’ve _always_ been right behind you. That’s not going to change. You’re my sister now. And that’s my nephew.” She touched Elizabeth’s belly. “That’s _my_ baby, too, you know. And if anyone comes after my baby, I’m gonna do some damage. There’s so many people who love you, Elizabeth. You, Jason, and this precious miracle. We’re not giving up without a fight.”

“I know.” Elizabeth laid her head on Emily’s shoulder, closed her eyes. “But if something happens to me—”

“Elizabeth—”

“It helps to know you’ll be here. I couldn’t have found a better aunt if I’d made you myself. And you know—” She forced a smile on her face. “You know that’s how I feel about you. When you and Nikolas stop pretending no one knows you’re dating—”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Who told—”

“And when you have _your_ first child, I’m going to be right there, fighting every battle. Even if it’s not—” Elizabeth paused. No. No maudlin thoughts today. “Thank you. For being my friend. And my sister.”

“This is a much better wedding day than the last one,” Emily declared, and then for some reason, they burst into laughter even though it wasn’t really that funny. “Let’s get you out of this dress before we mess it up.”

**Quartermaine Mansion: Living Room**

“I am so pleased that you invited the whole family,” Lila told her grandson as Jason finished his cup of coffee and smiled at her. He’d promised to start this day with her, to have breakfast with her since she couldn’t join the festivities at the penthouse with the others. Then he and Elizabeth would be stopping by between the ceremony and reception to take photos with her.

Jason wanted Lila to feel included. He knew the day was coming when she wouldn’t be here at all. The skin that stretched over the hand she held out to him felt thinner than he remembered at Christmas, and she looked tired already despite it barely being ten in the morning.

It shook him slightly to see his indomitable grandmother who always seemed immortal fading away in front of him, and whatever he had to do to make her happy in the time she had left—he would do it.

Including inviting the majority of the Quartermaines to his wedding.

“Well, Elizabeth insisted on Edward,” Jason admitted, but he hadn’t put up much of a fight.

“He adores her, you know.” Lila beamed. “As do I. And you’ve invited your father as well, which brings me such joy, Jason. I know we haven’t been the best of family to you since your accident—”

“ _You_ have always been perfect,” Jason argued.

Her eyes shined. “But we _do_ love you in our own way, especially Edward and Alan. Thank you for having breakfast with me this morning, my dear.” She closed her eyes. “I think I will rest so I can be at my best when you and Elizabeth come back. I want to enjoy _every_ moment of this.”

“Of course. I’ll go get Reginald to take care of you.” He held his grandmother’s hand for another moment, then kissed her cheek before he stood up to go find his grandmother’s devoted manservant.

Reginald was hovering in the foyer and hurried into the living room to take care of Lila while Jason started to put on his coat, intending to head over to the warehouse and put out last minute fires.

“Oh, Jason, I didn’t realize your breakfast was over already.” He turned at his father’s voice as Alan emerged from the front room, his reading glasses in his hand. “Is Mother all right?”

“She wanted to rest,” Jason told him. He looked towards the living room where he had just left her. “Monica said she’s getting worse. Even since Christmas.”

“She sleeps more than she used to,” Alan admitted. “Father isn’t handling it well, but then, I never imagined he would.” He cleared his throat. “It was good of you to come this morning. Ten years ago, I think she might have been able to make the trip to spend the day with Elizabeth—maybe even five years ago. Thank you for making her part of this day.”

“Yeah.” Jason shifted the weight from one foot to another. He’d accepted his relationship to these people, largely because of how they’d handled the press and supported Elizabeth last fall, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable with it. “Well, I have some things to do before…”

“Of course. Thank you again for including me in the invitation,” Alan told him. “We’re all looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jason started for the door again, but Alan spoke again.

“I also wanted to let you know—” Alan walked towards him, his voice a bit quieter now as if he were being careful not to let his voice echo in the foyer. “Monica spoke to me about Elizabeth’s case to make sure that when she was ready for surgery, we’d have the surgeon and operating room equipped. There’s a lot of paperwork,” he added when Jason furrowed his brow. “And Monica wanted to be ready whenever you are.”

“Oh. Okay—”

“I—I can’t pretend to know—” Alan pressed his lips together. “Well, Monica had breast cancer, you know that. So I have a little bit of experience watching someone you love deal with a health crisis.”

Oh, man, Jason hoped that Alan didn’t expect him to get into this right now. Jason did _not_ want to think about this today. He wanted to follow Elizabeth’s lead and try for an entire day where he wasn’t thinking about _any_ of this.

“Okay.”

“And you don’t want to talk about this. That’s fine. I suppose I just—I know Monica is Elizabeth’s doctor, and you’re closer to her. But if you ever have any questions about—well, I just thought you might want to know that I’m here. If you don’t want to trouble your mother.”

“I—” Jason exhaled slowly. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He didn’t quite feel the same pull towards Alan that he did towards Monica, but he wondered if it was just that he’d given his mother more opportunities to support him. Would he change the way he felt about Alan or even Edward if he gave them the chance?

“I’m sure you have a lot to do,” his father said, “so I’ll see you at the church.”

**Harborview Towers: Elevator**

Bobbie’s chest tightened as the guard from the security desk followed them into the elevator to turn the access key. “Thanks,” she told him, pressing the button for the penthouse level. He nodded at her, then returned to the security desk.

“They put that in after September, didn’t they?” Monica asked as the doors closed. She glanced at Bobbie, who sighed, then nodded.

“Only a handful of people have a key. You can’t get on the top floor without one.” And Sonny had refused to give Carly one during the handful of weeks she’d returned to the penthouse. Jason had had to surrender his own copy—

But Bobbie wasn’t going to think about any of that now. Not today. “Monica,” she began, “I know Elizabeth had some tests a few weeks ago—”

“Bobbie—”

“And that whatever the results were,” she continued, “Jason and Elizabeth have decided not to share them outside of a few people. It’s _okay_ ,” she assured her old friend who looked stricken. “I’m not angry or anything. I’m just worried. Is there anything I can do today to make things better? Or easier?”

Monica pressed her lips together. “Medically, no,” she finally said. “Elizabeth wanted everyone to be happy for her. To think about the wedding. That’s why—” She shook her head. “I can’t say anything else.”

“So focus on today being perfect,” Bobbie said. She nodded, faced forward, and watched the numbers climb towards fifteen. “I can do that. She deserves it. They both do.”

“They absolutely do. She’ll tell you soon, Bobbie,” Monica said softly. “She loves you.”

“I love her, too. Every stubborn inch,” the redhead muttered.

**Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason** **’s Office**

Justus set his briefcase on the floor, then sat down. He looked over at Bernie, and the two of them came to some sort of silent decision before Justus met Jason’s eyes. “We have a problem.”

Of course they did. Jason was literally finishing the last thing that needed to be done before he went to the church to get ready. Before he left this warehouse and all of this behind for two weeks at the lake with Elizabeth.

_Of course_ there was a problem.

“What is it?” Jason asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this something Sonny needs to know?”

“Uh, well, we’d thought we’d leave that up to you,” Bernie admitted. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you ever tell him about Puerto Rico?”

Jason hissed under his breath, looked away. “No,” he muttered. He scrubbed his hand over his face. “No,” he said in a stronger voice. “I didn’t want to deal with it that day, and by the time I was paying attention again, Johnny said they didn’t have anything backing it up, and Tommy was getting raided—”

And Elizabeth had received her diagnosis.

“I haven’t wanted to pry,” Bernie said after a moment of silence, “but I’m concerned about what you told Tommy a few weeks ago. About Elizabeth. I know this isn’t our business—”

“How bad is it?” Justus demanded, clearly irritated with Bernie’s attempt at diplomacy. “You’re dumping all of this on us for two weeks, not telling Sonny about sightings of Lansing—Jason—I want to help, but you _can_ _’t_ leave us blind—”

“I’m not—” Jason shoved himself to his feet. “I’m not leaving you blind. Johnny is coming up to take point on anything I would normally do. As long as you keep him away from Sonny, it’ll be fine. We don’t need to tell Sonny about Puerto Rico because it didn’t go anywhere. None of these sightings have been verified—” Interpol wasn’t even taking them seriously.

“This one has been,” Justus cut in, and at that, Jason focused on him. “Miami. Yesterday. Javier Ruiz said he got a call from Ric Lansing, wanting to arrange passage back into the country. The Ruizes are old Alcazar connections.”

“He—” Jason sat back down. “Javier spoke to him. To _Ric_?”

“That’s what he says. He also says he didn’t help Ric since he knew his family was sending a representative to your wedding. That’s why he called. But if Ric is trying to get back into the country—”

“I also know that the Ruizes like to play games,” Bernie said with a shake of his head. “My brother said there was something a few years ago. After Lily’s—the car bomb—”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh—” Jason took a minute, tried to concentrate. “Hector gave us a false lead on Rivera—Lily’s father. He’d planted the bomb—” He blinked. “You think _this_ is a false lead?”

“I don’t know,” Bernie said. “I just think that it’s another sighting coming from the syndicate. From someone who is supposed to be, at least nominally, an ally. I talked to DiLucca—he thinks Javier is only mildly more trustworthy than Manny, and that he wouldn’t honestly trust any of the family.”

“Not even the priest?” Justus asked dryly. “What do you want us to do with this, Jase? If we tell Sonny today—”

“He’ll want to cancel everything.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Bernie’s right. You can’t take Ruiz at face value. He’s either flat out lying, and this never happened, or he’s lying, and he helped Ric into the country. Or he’s telling the truth.”

“Only one of those is good news for us,” Justus said. “The other options mean Ric is trying to get back into the country.” He paused. “Maybe you want to think about canceling this trip, Jase—”

“Not on the table,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “But—” he saw Justus’s impatience. “The last thing Elizabeth needs is to be across the hall when Sonny finds out about Miami.” He stared at his hands. “You’re not stupid. You know that we had tests done at the beginning of the month.”

“I know it had to be bad for you to show even a hint of it to Tommy,” Bernie said. “What can we do?”

“What’s wrong with Elizabeth?” Justus pressed. “Jason—”

“We weren’t going to tell anyone until after the wedding,” Jason continued. “She didn’t want anyone to worry about her, but if this Miami thing—you need to know why it’s not important to me. Not right now.” He looked up, met his cousin’s eyes. “Elizabeth had these blood clots in her blood vessels—the ones in her lungs. They left scar tissue. It’s hard for her to breathe. Especially when she gets upset or stressed out. Like the day of the hearing.”

“What’s—” Justus swallowed. “She can’t breathe—what happens to the baby?”

“Right now, nothing. Elizabeth is managing, and her vitals are strong. She’s just tired a lot. She needs to rest. She needs to be away from all of this. Especially if and when we tell Sonny about Miami.”

“Right now,” Bernie echoed. “But later?”

“Later—” Jason’s mouth tightened. “It’s rare,” he muttered. “No one knows for sure, but there’s never been a single successful delivery of a baby to a mother with CTEPH—not one where both survive.”

Those words hung in the office for a long moment as Bernie stared at the floor, and Justus just tried to process it.

“But—”

“She could deliver early,” Jason said after a moment, “but there’s no guarantee the baby would survive. And the longer she waits, the more damage she risks to her heart and lungs. There aren’t any easy choices. And the only thing I _can_ do is to keep all of this from touching her. I can’t do that if she’s in Port Charles across the hall from Sonny.”

“Of course not,” Justus murmured. He cleared his throat. “Of course not,” he repeated. “And she comes first. We’ll keep Miami to ourselves. At least for today, until you’re out of town. Sonny will probably go insane,” he admitted. “But maybe by then, we’ll have more information.” He looked at Bernie. “We can handle this. Johnny can handle this. He’ll be here tomorrow anyway.”

“Right, right.” Bernie squared his shoulders. “And maybe this Miami thing will be the break we need. We’ll get Ric dealt with, and things can go back to normal.”

Jason sighed. “Maybe. But while I’m gone—I’ll check in once a day,” he promised Justus. “But I’m not coming back unless it’s life or death. And this was _my_ idea,” he told them. “She keeps trying to make it shorter. If it were up to me, and I thought I could manage it—I wouldn’t bring her back until the baby was born.”

“I’d do the same for Mikki,” Justus told him. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Take care of Elizabeth and the baby. Bernie and I will deal with this.” He checked his watch and winced. “Now, we need to get you to the church. Elizabeth is heading over there right now according to the timeline, and Emily will actually kill me if you accidentally see each other before the ceremony.”

**Harborview Towers: Hallway**

Elizabeth was still laughing as she left the penthouse, waiting as Cody locked the door behind them. “I’m not sure Emily was joking,” she told Bobbie. “When she told me she threatened Don about the bread—”

“He called me,” Bobbie told her with a grin. “Asking if I knew how to bake bread because if it wasn’t fresh, he was afraid Emily would go after him with her scalpel—” She glanced down at her bag. “Are we sure we have everything?”

“Yes,” Cody assured them. “I had Richie and Marco help Miss Jones and Miss Spencer down to the car with everything you’ll need at the church, and both Doctors Quartermaine are already waiting for us. And yes, they have the wedding dress.”

“It’s almost like you’ve answered these questions before,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Cody. We’re driving you nuts today, aren’t we?”

“Not at all, Miss Webber.” He nodded at Max, who came around the corner. “We all want this day to be perfect.”

“Yeah, Jase deserves a little fun,” the other guard said with a grin. “And you look so pretty, Miss Webber. He’s gonna swallow his tongue.”

“Oh, thanks, but—” Elizabeth saw Bobbie’s glare. “Right, I’m not supposed to do that. Thank you, Max. I feel great today—in fact—” she turned to the redhead. “There’s something I wanted to ask you—I wanted to ask you before any of this, but I also wanted us to be alone—”

“Elizabeth,” Bobbie said. “Just ask.” She patted Elizabeth’s arm. “Whatever I can do to make this day as special as you both deserve.”

“Well—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I know I asked Nikolas to walk me down the aisle, but I really—I really wanted to ask _you_. I didn’t because I didn’t want it to be weird and I didn’t want Carly to get annoyed, but—”

“Oh, Elizabeth—” Bobbie pressed two fingers to her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. “You’re going to ruin my makeup. Sweetheart—”

“I love Nikolas, but you’re—you’ve always been there for me. The night I was—” She paused, conscious of the guards who were trying to look like pressing an elevator button was _very_ difficult work that required all of their attention.

“That night, even with Luke and Lucky—if you hadn’t been there, I’m not sure I could have survived. And then later—when I wasn’t sure if something like this was even _possible_ —if love and a family—if I could do it—you gave me the courage. I know you’re not my mother, but sometimes—” She couldn’t keep going.

“Sometimes I pretend, too,” Bobbie finished. She embraced her as tightly as she dared, not wanting to muss Elizabeth’s curls or her makeup. “And absolutely. I can’t wait to walk you down the aisle. You have made my _entire_ day.”

“Thank you—” Elizabeth hugged her back. With a broad smile, they turned towards the elevator — and then stopped.

They should have seen it—the minute Max had appeared—Elizabeth should have realized it meant that Sonny was still here.

But it wasn’t until Sonny came around the corner, dressed in his tux, a heavy coat slung over his arm, that Elizabeth put the two things together.

“Elizabeth.” Sonny took a deep breath, swept his eyes over her. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Elizabeth put her hands in the pockets of her white winter jacket. “You look great. You always looked good in a tux.”

“I clean up well enough.” Sonny looked at Bobbie, who lifted her chin, then focused on Elizabeth again. “All things aside,” he said slowly, “thank you. I think we both know that if you’d said one word, I wouldn’t even be invited today.”

“You matter to Jason,” Elizabeth said softly. “You always will. And you—” She managed a smile. “You matter to me, Sonny. We both want you to be part of this.”

“I can’t always promise to be a good man,” Sonny said, “but I’m honored to be a part of this, to stand up beside Jason. I wish you happiness. I really do.”

“Thank you.”

The elevator doors opened, and Sonny gestured for Bobbie and Elizabeth to board first. “After you.”

Elizabeth smiled at him again, traded a look with Bobbie, then stepped on board. Maybe this would be the way the entire day would be—maybe Jason would get his best friend back, and Sonny would see how happy they were.

Maybe it would all be okay.

But Elizabeth wasn’t arrogant enough to think _everythin_ g would be perfect today, and she was afraid that this glimpse of the old Sonny was just that — a flash. Temporary. She prayed she was wrong, squeezing Bobbie’s hand tightly. “I’m getting married today,” she said to her. “It feels like the first time.”

“Because it’s the first time that’s mattered,” Bobbie assured. “The first time it’s been right.” She put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders, squeezed. “Nothing else matters today but that.”

**Queen of Angels: Chapel**

If anyone had told Taggert that he’d be sitting in a pew at Jason Morgan’s wedding, he would have told them to go flying off a building, but here he was, waiting for Anger Boy to exchange vows.

Taggert tugged at his tie and looked at his watch, hoping the ceremony would get over with quickly and that he wouldn’t end up in the background of any pictures.

“Stop fidgeting,” his date murmured as she placed a hand over his. Portia clasped his larger hand between hers and drew it into her lap. He looked at her, and she flashed a smile. “You’ll survive. And in a few more months, everyone will remember Jason Morgan is a bad guy.”

Taggert rolled his eyes. “Knowing this town, that might never happen. But everyone still hates Sonny. I can live with that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Justus grinned at his old rival over his wife’s head. Tamika arched one dark brow, and Justus looked away, hiding his smirk behind his hand.

“How much longer—” Taggert began, but then, at the front of the church, Father Coates emerged from a back room and nodded at the pianist to begin the music. “Thank God.”

“God is gonna strike you down, you keep that up,” Portia muttered.

Jason strode out from another side door, followed by Sonny and their business manager, Bernie. He took his position at the front, to the right of the church. Taggert scowled. “Damn it, Justus,” he hissed. “I’m sitting on the _groom_ _’s_ side—”

“Hush,” Portia said mildly, and Taggert subsided, still irritated that he hadn’t realized until now what side he’d been dragged to. He’d never live this down if it got out.

Monica came first, with Alan escorting her down the aisle, looking like the proud parents of the groom. That was a point in Morgan’s favor, Taggert thought grudgingly. He was starting to drift away from Corinthos back towards the Quartermaines. Maybe Elizabeth would be a good influence on him after all, instead of _him_ corrupting _her_.

Stranger things had happened in Port Charles.

“I can hear you judging from here,” Portia murmured. “Can’t you just try to enjoy yourself?” She glanced back at him. “There’s no point in you being here if you’re just gonna glower.”

“I didn’t say anything—”

“You said you that you wanted to be here for Elizabeth. That she deserved to be happy, and you would support _whatever_ did that. So, suck it up, fake a smile, and don’t be scowling in the background of the photos.”

Taggert wrinkled his nose but forced himself to follow her directions. Portia was right—just like always. But he was still gonna try to duck any photographer who tried to aim a camera at him.

Emily was next, escorted by Nikolas. After they’d made it to the end of the aisle, both of them went to the bride’s side of the church, standing opposite Jason. Michael Corinthos furrowed his brows as he walked down the aisle, careful not to let the satin pillow in his hands shake even a little. Once he’d reached the end of the aisle, he gave the rings to his father, then went to stand next to him.

The music changed to the traditional wedding march, and the congregation got to their feet.

Then Elizabeth was standing at the doorway, a bouquet of some sort of white, pink, and peach flowers in her hands. Her arm was wound through Bobbie’s, who was also beaming. He was sure that Portia would tell him later about the dress, but it just looked like Elizabeth wearing a jeweled cloud.

“She looks so beautiful,” Portia murmured. She squeezed Taggert’s hand. “Aren’t you glad you came?”

He was, Taggert realized, as he watched Elizabeth walk down the aisle. Even if she was walking towards one of Taggert’s least favorite people in the world, he was grateful to have this picture of her to add to the ones in his mind.

He’d met her as a pale, wan sixteen-year-old, shattered by the brutal rape that had nearly destroyed her life. He’d watched her grow up, regain her confidence, only to be broken all over again the night he’d held up a burnt subway token. He’d never forget _that_ picture of her—the way her body had simply crumpled, and she’d fallen to the ground as if all her bones had vanished.

Taggert had seen her drugged and battered this summer, pale and unconscious. He’d seen her determined to stand up for all the other women Vinnie Esposito had raped, and the system had thrown away. At the press conference, at the hearing in Syracuse and the sentencing—

He’d known Elizabeth Webber for years, and now he got to add a new picture to all the ones he’d collected since their first meeting.

Because this might be the first time he’d ever seen her delirious with happiness, her smile somehow getting brighter as she and Bobbie reached the front of the church, Elizabeth practically floating down the aisle. Bobbie squeezed Elizabeth’s hands, then kissed Jason’s cheeks before taking a seat next to Carly in the front pew.

Taggert watched as Elizabeth handed her bouquet to Emily, then Jason took both Elizabeth’s in his to help her up the steps to Father Coates, Jason carefully making sure that she didn’t trip on all the floaty material of her dress.

He’d never seen Jason with that particular expression on his face—he’d seen the anger, the disdain, and of course— the famous blank stare.

But he’d never seen the man look at anyone that way.

Taggert swallowed hard as Father Coates began the service, then exhaled. “Yeah,” he murmured, answering the question Portia had asked him earlier. “Yeah, I’m glad I came.”

**Quartermaine Estate: Foyer**

Elizabeth was laughing as Jason pulled her inside the front door. “Whose idea was it to get married in the middle of winter?” she teased, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She looked back out towards the driveway where the car was parked, squinting at the flurries that had begun to fall.

She started to unbutton the thick winter jacket she wore over her wedding dress, but her fingers were chilled from the brief walk to the door and fumbled. Jason brushed her hands aside to do it for her.

Elizabeth took his face in her hands and kissed him. Distracted, Jason slid his arms around her waist to draw her against him. “Hey,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Hey,” Elizabeth whispered back. She smiled up at him dreamily. “ _We_ _’re married_.”

“Yeah, we are.” He kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers. “You’re so beautiful.”

Elizabeth giggled, ducked her head. “It’s the dress—”

“It’s nice, but it’s you.” Jason slid the backs of his fingers down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There was slight coughing from behind them, and they turned to see Reginald stepping out from the family room, his cheeks flushed with red. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but the photographer got here just before you, and Mrs. Quartermaine is ready when you are.”

“We’ll be right in,” Jason told him. Reginald nodded and disappeared back into the room. Jason helped Elizabeth off with her coat, then hung it up behind them.

Lila was sitting by the sofa, her face lighting up when Jason walked in just ahead of Elizabeth, his hand in hers. “My darlings, look how lovely you look.”

Jason was happy to see that she looked better than she had that morning, and she’d even dressed in one of her formal dresses and put some jewelry on. “You look beautiful, Grandmother.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Well, I couldn’t look dowdy in our photos,” Lila said, preening under Jason’s praise. She looked at Elizabeth. “And my dear, that dress looks even more beautiful in person.”

Elizabeth grinned, twirling in her dress, the full tulle skirt floating around her like a cloud, the jeweled beading on the top flashing in the light. “I know. I’m so glad Lois and Emily convinced me to get it at Christmas.”

“I have something for you.” Lila looked at Reginald, who came forward with a small, silver-wrapped box. He handed it to Jason, who gave it to Elizabeth. “It’s been passed down in my family for several generations.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, holding the box more tightly. “Than it should be for Emily or Tracy—”

“I’ve put aside pieces for them,” Lila told them. “But this is something I wanted for Jason’s bride. You’re carrying on _my_ family name, dear, so it seems right that you should have something from me.”

Elizabeth smiled, and Jason helped her to sit down, arranging her skirts, so they billowed around her. “Does it ever stop?” he teased as he fluffed up a section so he could sit next to her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then unwrapped the box, extracting a blue velvet jewelry case. Inside was a filigree silver necklace with a moon and star pendant set with rubies and sapphires. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she murmured. She looked at Lila, tears stinging her eyes. “It’s perfect. I want to wear it in _all_ the photos.” She turned, swept her hair from her neck. “Can you?” she asked Jason.

He unclasped the necklace she already wore, then fastened the new one. “It matches my engagement ring,” she said to Lila.

“I thought it might when I saw your ring.” Lila smiled at them, her eyes misty with tears. “I’m so happy, darling. For both of you. For the life you’re bringing into the world. I know I might not be here much longer—”

Jason tightened his hand around Elizabeth’s reflexively. “Grandmother—”

“But I’ll be able to go with peace, knowing my family is happy. Take care of each other. And always remember that you love one another. It won’t solve all your problems, but it isn’t such a terrible place to begin.”


	25. Chapter Seventy-Five

_I'm gonna love you 'til_  
 _My lungs give out_  
 _I promise 'til death we part like in our vows_  
 _So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows_  
 _Finally it's just you and me 'til we're grey and old_  
 _Just say you won't let go_  
 _Just say you won't let go_  
\- Say You Won’t Let Go, James Arthur

* * *

_Saturday, January 31, 2004_

**Port Charles Hotel: Conservatory**

“It’s been a good day so far,” Lucas said as they watched the photographer rearrange the bridal party yet again. Carly had to laugh as Michael’s irritated expression matched his uncle’s. Michael didn’t often look like the Quartermaines, but sometimes he reminded her so much of Jason—

“Yeah,” Carly said, smiling as Elizabeth leaned down to adjust Michael’s bow tie. She whispered something to him, and her son started to laugh.

“Mommy!” Michael said. “Elizabeth says you can be in the pictures, too. I want one with my mom,” he told the photographer. “She’s like Uncle Jason’s best man only she’s a girl. I don’t know why that matters, but it’s something about pants.”

Carly snorted as she left Lucas and edged around Sonny to join the bridal party. “Just one, Mr. Man. I’m not really in this—”

“No, we want one with you and Michael,” Elizabeth told Carly. “Jason will just scrunch up his face—” She pointed. “Yeah, like that—”

“I told you,” Jason said, “whatever you want, but—”

“You want me off my feet. Just one more photo,” she promised. She looked at everyone else still gathered — Emily, Bobbie, Nikolas, Sonny, Justus, and Bernie, furrowed her brow. “I think.”

“Elizabeth—”

“ _Two_ more photos,” Elizabeth corrected. She beamed at him. “You and Carly and Michael, and then with Bobbie, oh—” She looked around and waved Lucas forward. “Lucas, do you want one with Bobbie?”

“I’m good. I’m gonna keep this plant company—”

“Oh, no—” Bobbie took her son by the arm. “I _never_ get to see you all dressed up. You’re just lucky I don’t go grab Felix and get all my fun at once.”

“What about Daddy?” Michael asked. He looked hesitantly at his father, who had remained somewhat apart from the rest of the bridal party. Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, looked at Carly.

“Yeah, sure,” Carly said, forcing a smile. “We haven’t had a family picture in a while.”

“So how many more photos is this?” Jason asked with a sigh.

It ended up being six more photographs before Jason firmly cut Elizabeth off and sent the photographer into the Renaissance Room to take pictures of the reception. But he was good-natured about it, and Carly enjoyed how relaxed and happy he looked.

Maybe this _was_ the start of something better—

“I was thinking,” Sonny said as Jason posed for the final picture Elizabeth just had to have—one of him with Michael by himself. Michael held up the empty satin pillow and pointed to Jason’s finger, which now had a silver band.

“He’s getting so big,” Carly murmured, pressing a fist to her heart. “Look at him.”

“‘I’m taking Elizabeth to sit down,” Jason told Carly. He glanced at Sonny for a moment. “You coming?”

“No, I’ll be there in a minute,” Carly said. “Michael is going home with Lucas—” She looked at her half-brother. “Thanks again for hanging with him.”

“Yeah, no big deal. He owes me a match up in Mario Kart,” Lucas said.

“You did such a great job,” Elizabeth told Michael.

“I practiced a lot,” Michael said, seriously. “But I don’t like the shoes. They hurt.”

Elizabeth laughed, and Jason finally managed to drag his new wife into the ballroom so he could get her to sit down. Emily and Nikolas followed, as did Justus and Bernie, but Bobbie hung back, waiting for Carly since Scott had left the wedding after the ceremony.

Sonny eyed Bobbie warily for a moment before focusing on Carly. “Listen—” He scratched his nose. “I was thinking maybe Michael could come to my place for the night. You know, a guys night.”

Carly’s fingers tightened on Michael’s shoulders. “Michael—”

“I’m playing Mario Kart with Uncle Lucas,” Michael said in a small voice. He twisted his head up to look at Carly. “Do I have to go with Dad?”

“We’ll make dinner,” Sonny said. “Watch movies. Or play—you still have a lot of things—”

“Sonny,” Carly said softly. “You know how I feel. Don’t do this. _Not_ today. In front of Michael.”

“He’s my goddamn son, Carly. I want to spend some time with him,” Sonny bit out.

“Mommy—”

“Lucas—” Carly didn’t take her eyes off Sonny, nearly terrified that Sonny would snatch her son from her. “Why don’t you take Michael now?”

“Sure.” With an easy smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Lucas strode forward, reaching out for Michael’s hand. “Let’s head out—”

“Get your hands off my son—” Sonny took a step forward, then Michael shrank back against Carly, sniffling. “Why the hell do you do this, Carly? I don’t _deserve_ this—”

“Let’s get out of here, big guy.” Lucas picked Michael up in his arms. “I’ll call you when we get home,” he told Carly.

“Get back here—”

But Lucas wasn’t remotely intimidated by the mobster who took three steps after him. He tucked Michael’s face in his shoulder and left the observatory without looking back.

“I told you from the start. You get _supervised_ visits with the boys,” Carly said evenly, her pulse racing. Her skin felt itchy, and she just wanted to run, to hide—especially when Sonny swung his angry eyes back to hers. “If you don’t like it, then make an appointment with a therapist. Or take me to court.”

She took a step back, grateful when Bobbie slipped her hand in hers, bolstering her. “Please. Don’t ruin this day. _Don_ _’t_ make this about you. This day isn’t about you or me. It’s about Jason and Elizabeth. Come on, Mama. Let’s go inside.”

**Port Charles Police Department: Commissioner** **’s Office**

Taggert tugged at his tie as he followed Ned and Scott into Anna’s office.

Anna got to her feet and flashed the trio of men a smile. “Well, don’t you all look charming. How was the mob wedding of the century?”

He winced. So much for getting in and out without anyone noticing. He glared at Scott. “Did you dime me out?”

Scott scowled. “You? I still don’t know how I got suckered into going.” He threw up a hand at Ned. “How the hell did we all end up there?”

Taggert sighed, looked at Anna. “None of us went to the reception, we’re not in photographs—well maybe the cousin is—” Ned rolled his eyes. “I know it looks bad. It’s just—”

“A unique set of circumstances,” Anna said with a nod. “Elizabeth Webber is something of a public figure at the moment with Lansing and Esposito, and I know that her public support of the department went a long way to shoring up its reputation.”

“Exactly. Esposito didn’t appeal his sentence,” Scott said, “but he still might. We don’t want to do anything to mess up that relationship.”

Ned snorted. “Uh huh. Sure. Better than admitting you both got bamboozled by a tiny brunette—”

“Shut up,” Taggert muttered. “You called this meeting, Mayor. What’s the problem?”

“I know you didn’t want to hear any more sightings, but—” Ned hesitated. “Ric Lansing contacted someone in Miami, looking for passage back into the country. My source doesn’t know if he got through, but it’s a more direct sighting than the others.”

“Someone actually _spoke_ to him?” Anna’s brow lifted. “You’re right, that’s very different from a few random sightings out of the country. Interpol might not be interested, but I’ll let them decide for themselves. I’ll also pass it on to the FBI and ring Frisco at the WSB to cover all my bases.” She paused. “Does your source think it’s more credible than the others?”

“Yeah, how _does_ Morgan feel about it?” Scott said with a smirk.

Ned leveled a glare at the DA. “My source,” he said, his teeth clenched, “isn’t convinced, but he thinks it has more legs than the others. He thinks it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Whoever your source is,” Anna said, with a look in her eye that told Taggert she knew exactly how Ned was getting this information, “he’s right. Those other sightings might have been purposely vague to throw us off the trail. I don’t want to brush this off and find out the hard way we were wrong. I’ll make the calls. You said Morgan was taking Elizabeth out of town?”

“They’ll be isolated where they’re going,” Ned said with a nod. “Two weeks. Monica, Bobbie, and Justus have the contact info, but no one else can reach them. So Elizabeth is safe.”

“Then, we’ll check with Carly and make sure she has what she needs.”

**Port Charles Hotel: Renaissance Room**

Luke sipped his whiskey and watched as his sister and niece walked into the ballroom. He wasn’t happy that Barbara Jean looked pale or that Carly’s eyes were a bit too wide. A moment later, Sonny slunk in and headed for the bar.

That did not bode well. Luke had heard through the grapevine about the visits his old friend had made to the Brownstone, and it was lowering to know that his sister was struggling and hadn’t come to _him_. He only knew because Lucas had told Lulu, and his gumdrop thought this was information Luke needed.

He scanned the ballroom, looking first for Elizabeth, but she was surrounded by a gaggle of women, including his wife and daughter, all of them beaming like sunshine. Luke continued his search, then finally found the groom, leaning against a nearby column, a bottle of Rolling Rock in his hand, watching his new wife.

Luke sauntered over. “Hey, Junior. You look like you’re drowning,” he said. Jason looked at him, his brow slightly raised in response. “These parties—” he gestured with his glass. “They’re not for you.”

“No,” Jason said, with a half smile as he watched Elizabeth’s smile grow even larger as Emily said something. She threw back her head and laughed. “No, but this one isn’t so bad.”

“I did enjoy see Ruby’s chili as an option. That girl—” Luke studied Elizabeth for a long moment. “She would have made a hell of a Spencer. Sometimes, I thought about chucking Cowboy and keeping her.”

Jason narrowed his eyes slightly, but Luke just grinned. “She looks good, though. Insanely happy all things considered. Thanks for the invite. I like seeing my angel all dolled up, looking good. Happy wife, happy life. You learn just that one piece of advice from me, I’ll have done my job.”

“Elizabeth made the guest list,” Jason said. He made a face. “She never made it to dinner with Laura,” he continued, “and I know that bothered her.”

“A lot going on these last few months.” Luke studied Sonny at the bar, remembering how long he’d known the man. They’d once been as thick as thieves, and Luke knew where a lot of the bodies were buried.

Literally.

Luke turned back to Jason. “You’re heading out of town for two weeks, Laura tells me, but, uh, I’ve noticed that my sister’s humble abode is regularly visited by our mutual friend over there. Is Corinthos gonna handle you being out of town well? Or should I be worrying about my sister and her family?”

Jason hesitated, stared down at his beer, so Luke continued. “I’m not asking to get involved. I can’t. Not with my boy making a name for himself with the PCPD and moving in with an ADA—” and it went without saying that Luke didn’t want to stir up too many old ghosts on that front— “I can’t be getting myself into trouble like the old days, but Bobbie’s my sister, and Carly’s like a fungus I’ve grown attached to. I just want to make sure they’re safe.”

“They’re—” Jason sighed. He nodded his head towards the back doors of the ball room. “Let’s go somewhere.”

A few minutes later, Jason had pulled Luke into the corner of the observatory where they’d taken photos. “For reasons I can’t get into, Carly left Sonny in September. She only went home in November because Ric jumped bail.” Jason paused. “It didn’t last long.”

“For reasons you can’t get into,” Luke repeated dryly, and Jason inclined his head. “But Sonny still thinks this Lansing jackass is out there.”

“He does. We’ve had some sightings, but nothing I’d want to point to as credible.” Jason scratched his temple. “He’s not handling the uncertainty well. There was a thing in Puerto Rico I never even passed on to him because—” He looked away, a shadow creeping into his expression. “Because I didn’t. And it didn’t pan out. But Sonny wants Carly to come back to the penthouse. He’s using the threat to guilt her,” Jason told Luke, “but the Brownstone is as safe as I can make it, and Carly has guards.”

“I remember the drill.”

“The reason I’m even bothering to tell you any of this is that—” Jason paused. “I think it might get worse while I’m out of town. And I’m not canceling this trip.”

“You think Lansing is going to make an attempt?” Luke asked skeptically. “Listen—”

“No, I don’t. At least not in the next two weeks. Up until today, I was pretty sure that Ric had disappeared for good. I still mostly think that,” he continued with a sigh, “but we got some news out of Miami that makes me wonder if we know what’s really going on. I didn’t pass this to Sonny today because—”

“He’d have made a scene and ruined the wedding,” Luke said. He pursed his lips. “But you’re gonna tell him.”

“Yeah. _After_ Elizabeth and I are out of town,” Jason told him. “But his first stop might be the Brownstone, so…” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “You might want to be on your guard. Justus and Bernie are going to keep an eye on Sonny, but I’d appreciate if you’d keep an extra eye on Carly and Bobbie. Because I don’t doubt Sonny is going to lose it if he thinks Ric is closer.”

“Interesting,” Sonny drawled as he sauntered out from behind one of the large plants near the entrance, his dark eyes glowing like ignited coal. “Why don’t you tell me about this ‘thing in Puerto Rico’ and ‘the news out of Miami’, and we’ll find out together.”

**Port Charles Hotel: Renaissance Room**

Elizabeth wasn’t sure exactly when she lost sight of her husband, but it was around the time Emily told her that cocktail hour was nearly over, and it was going to be time for their first dance and dinner.

She got to her feet, scanning the room—then noticed Sonny had left his position at the bar. Damn it.

“I’ll be right back,” she told Emily. “I’m just going to get Jason—”

“But—”

“Wait here,” she told her best friend and started to weave in and out of family and friends, smiling tensely at everyone who tried to stop her until she found Carly standing next to Bobbie. “Hey. Jason and Sonny are both missing—”

“I saw Jason with my brother—” Bobbie frowned, started to scan the ballroom. “Laura—” she called over to another group. “Have you seen Luke?”

“Oh, I think he and Jason went to talk somewhere,” Laura said. “I saw them leaving the ballroom about ten minutes ago.”

“Let’s go,” Elizabeth said. She grabbed her skirt with both hands and started for the door.

“I knew Sonny was in a bad mood,” Carly muttered as she followed the bride. “I should have just let Michael go with him—”

“Carly—”

By the time the trio of women left the ballroom, they could hear the raised voices from the observatory next door — the raised voice of Sonny, that is. Jason and Luke were more muted.

Carly strode forward, irritated beyond the speaking of it, bursting into the room, startling the trio of men who all turned to look at them. “Sonny, what the hell are you doing?” Carly bit out through clenched teeth. “Whatever you’re pissed about—it can wait—”

“Ric’s back in the country,” Sonny snapped, “and Jason _lied_ about it—”

Carly stared at him, blinking rapidly as she tried to take the words in. As she tried to absorb the idea that the man that had kidnapped, held her hostage, threatened to kill her, and had haunted her nightmares for nearly a year—

She was vaguely aware of Jason crossing the space and going over to Elizabeth. He said something to her, but Carly couldn’t quite process it — couldn’t order her thought.

Focus. Had to focus.

“What do you mean back in the country?” Carly said slowly. “Where? _When_?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sonny wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his fingers trembling slightly. “You and the boys — you’re coming back to the Towers. End of story.”

“Where? When?” Carly repeated. “How long did Jason know—”

“Five hours,” Jason’s quiet voice came from behind her. “I found out today, Carly.” He took Elizabeth’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “I was going to tell you,” he murmured to her.

“When?” Sonny snapped. “When Ric had already taken her? When he’d _killed_ Carly this time?”

“I understand,” Elizabeth told him. “And thank you for letting me having most of the wedding, but Carly and I—” She looked at Carly, their shared trauma one of the few things they had in common. “We should probably know.”

“It’s not much,” Jason told her. He looked at Carly. “It’s _not_. Someone we don’t really trust out of Miami talked to Ric yesterday..”

“Don’t really trust,” Bobbie repeated. At her side, Luke had put his hands into his pockets, taking in the whole scene like a stranger driving past an accident.

“C’mon—” Sonny growled, but Carly ignored him, focusing on her best friend who would never _ever_ lie to her about her safety to make her feel better.

“No,” Jason told her. “We’re checking it out, but it might not be any more reliable than the sightings in Caracas or Puerto Rico. None of the sightings have been verified—”

“Bullshit—”

“Stop!” Carly threw up her hands, startling Sonny into silence. “Just— _stop_! Jason isn’t going to put me, Elizabeth, or the boys— _any_ of them—” She spared a glance for Elizabeth, who had a hand curled protectively around her abdomen. “He’s not going to put us in danger just for a ceremony. If there’d been any real danger, we would have postponed or something. Why can’t you just be _reasonable_ —”

“He’s only doing this so she won’t leave him!” Sonny stabbed a finger at Elizabeth who’s eyes widened, startled by the accusation. “That’s what she did the _last_ time business got in the way—”

“Sonny—” Elizabeth began, but Jason sliced a hand through the air cutting her off.

“No,” Jason said flatly. “You got a problem with me, Sonny, you tell me. But you’re done disrespecting Elizabeth.” He angled his body slightly so that he was standing between Elizabeth and Sonny. “I don’t want Ric out there any more than you do—”

“Bullshit,” Sonny repeated, but some of the anger had left his voice. “Ric is still a threat. You need to bring the boys to the Towers,” he said, swinging his eyes back to Carly. “Now. They’re my kids, too, and I don’t want them—”

“I have security at the Brownstone,” Carly said, the fatigue settling in her bones. “Taggert lives upstairs, so there’s a cop on the premises—” When Sonny snorted, Carly glared at him. “Don’t you _dare_ —you know that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me or the kids. He only hates _you_ , Sonny. Not me.”

“You think the cops are going to protect you?” Sonny demanded. “They couldn’t even protect Elizabeth—look what a cop did to her—”

“And Vinnie Esposito got past _your_ security,” Elizabeth snarled, stepping around her new husband, her cheeks flushed. “You have no right to demand Carly go anywhere after what you did to her! After the way you’ve been treating Jason—”

“Oh sure, blame _me_ —” Sonny glared at her, and Carly just blinked. When the hell had Sonny and Elizabeth declared war on each other? She knew tensions were high, but she’d been so removed from all it since leaving the penthouse—

“Hey,” Jason murmured to her. He touched her shoulder, left bare by her strapless dress. “It’s okay—”

“No, I’m _tired_ of this. No one is perfect. Not you, not Sonny. Not the police. All we can do is try our best—”

“They’re my kids, and this is none of your business—”

“You _make_ it my business every time you storm into my home—”

“It’s Jason’s home, you’re just _freeloading_ —”

Carly’s eyes nearly bulged out of her sockets as Jason took his best friend by the lapels of his jacket and shoved Sonny back away from Elizabeth. “What did I _just_ tell you?” he demanded.

“Jason—” Elizabeth grabbed at his elbow. “Come on—just—”

Sonny wrenched himself out of Jason’s grip, his nostrils flaring. “What the hell are you doing—” But before he could take a step towards Jason, Luke put a hand on his elbow, and Sonny seemed to come back to himself slightly, looking around.

“Sonny—” Carly began, but she didn’t know what to do. How to handle this—

How was everything so bad? How had it fallen apart like this?

“Everyone is upset,” Luke said gently. “Why don’t we all take a minute and just—just relax. Before we say something we can’t take back.” He nodded at Elizabeth. “We got a lovely bride over here on the verge of tears, so I think we just need to cool down.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, the flush from her cheeks fading, leaving her cheeks stark white. “I’m going back inside,” she said. “This is my wedding day, and I’m not—I’m not letting anyone take that away from me. ” She turned and stalked back inside.

Jason stared after her, then closed his eyes and shook his head, obviously frustrated with himself for losing his temper. He looked back at Sonny, who lifted his chin defiantly.

“That’s the last time you’re going to talk to Elizabeth like that,” Jason warned him, his voice quiet. “Stop pushing me.”

“Or _what_?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Carly hissed, whacking Sonny in the arm. “What is _wrong_ with you? Like it or not, it’s their wedding day, and she’s pregnant. Stop it! Jason, go back and check on Elizabeth. I can handle this, I promise.”

Jason hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Carly said. She lifted her brows. “Mama and Luke are here. Go.”

Jason looked at Bobbie and Luke, then sighed and went back into the ballroom. Bobbie folded her arms, glaring at Sonny. “You never learn—”

“Damn it—” Sonny bit out.

Carly counted to five, praying for the patience to reason with her husband _one_ more time. She was so tired. Months of having the exact _same_ argument. “You couldn’t protect me last year. And that scared you. It scared me. It was horrible. But you refuse to give an inch—”

Sonny dragged his hands through his hair. “You don’t trust me. Jason doesn’t trust me. The guards—they’re looking at Jason—” He met her eyes, and she felt herself weakening—just slightly. Sonny was losing control—he was losing the respect of everyone around him, and she knew how much he needed that to survive, to function.

“I _need_ you to come home,” Sonny told her, pleading. “You and the boys. I need my family—”

“I wish I could do that,” Carly murmured. She closed her eyes. “But _nothing_ has changed. You’re not listening to me. And you just want to lock us up. Like before. I’m not doing it again. I spent a week locked in the dark, Sonny. The penthouse is just a larger panic room. The bedroom—how can you refuse to accept what you did?”

Luke scowled. “What is she talking about?” he demanded. “What did he do?” he asked Bobbie.

“Of all people—” Her voice broke. “You put me back inside that room—I’m done fighting you, Sonny. I’m done hoping something will change. I’m not coming back.”

“They’re my kids, too,” Sonny said, roughly. He glared at her. “If you won’t come back, then they will. I’ll make you do it. I can file for custody—”

“And you’ve already been told over and over again. You’ll lose,” Carly promised. “So why even fight?”

Sonny stared at her for another long moment, then stalked away, storming out of the observatory—and hopefully the hotel altogether.

Carly wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath. She felt her mother embrace her from behind. “Hey, Mama.”

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m just sorry we made a scene at the wedding. I really wanted this day for Jason—for Elizabeth, too, but mostly for him—”

“And they had a good day. It’s a wedding in Port Charles, people expect the drama. Let’s go inside and finish it off.”

Carly turned and managed a watery smile. “Mama, it just—it feels like it’s never going to be over. I’m never going to be rid of Ric Lansing.”

“One day, you will,” Bobbie promised. “One day.”

Carly walked away, and Bobbie felt a finger tap her on the shoulder. She turned to look at her very irritated older brother.”

“What,” Luke began, “the _hell_ is going on?”

**Port Charles Hotel: Renaissance Room**

By the time Jason reached Elizabeth at their table, Emily was sitting next to her, pressing her fingers to Elizabeth’s wrist. His heart began to race as he closed the last bit of distance between them. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“Couldn’t—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. He knelt down next to her, knew she was counting. “Couldn’t catch my breath.

“Mom went to get the oxygen tank,” Emily told Jason quietly. “Maybe you should take her home—”

“No—” Elizabeth’s voice broke as she opened her eyes, looked at Jason. “ _No_ —we didn’t—we didn’t get to dance. We didn’t—You didn’t get to eat anything.”

Jason forced himself to speak past the lump in his throat. “I know. But you should rest. If we stay, you need to go somewhere and use the oxygen tank.” He paused. “Do you want to do that? We can. We’ll get a room, and you can take a minute—”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother out of the corner of his eye and discreetly set a black case down next to him—the portable tank they’d brought with them. “How’s her pulse?” Monica asked her daughter.

“Slowing down,” Emily said, “but she still can’t take a full breath.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Honey, I know this sucks. It absolutely does. And I’m sorry. But you need to take care of you. Right?”

“I know. I just—” Elizabeth shook her head, sat up slowly. “I just wanted today to be perfect.”

“It was,” Monica assured her. “You looked so lovely, and you’re married. That’s ninety percent of the battle.”

“Jase, Mom, can you give us a minute?” Emily asked them. Jason scowled, but Monica touched his shoulder, and he stood up.

“I’m going right over there if you need me,” Jason said, pointing to a spot five feet away.

“Yeah, yeah—” Emily waved them off. When she was sure they were out of earshot, she focused on Elizabeth. “Sweetie, I know how important today is.”

“Em—”

“But you told me that the best chance for the baby to be healthy is for _you_ to stay healthy. If you have a health crisis, it’s going to shorten the amount of time the kid gets to bake.”

Elizabeth nodded, then sighed. “Right. I know.”

“So, if you go home now, I’ll make sure everyone remembers you’re pregnant and just got tired. People will keep drinking, and it’ll be fine. I’ll get food packed up and sent over. Jason will still get the food you picked out for him. You’ll go home, and then tomorrow, Jason’s going to take you on a honeymoon where Sonny does not know how to find you.” Emily smiled at her as Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Do you want to be tired and worn out on your honeymoon just so you can dance tonight in front of people?”

**Morgan Penthouse: Living Room**

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth apologized again as Jason closed the door behind them, then helped her sit on the sofa. She sank into the cushions, her dress frothing around them. She allowed the exhaustion to sink into her bones. She’d wanted to enjoy her perfect day—and it _had_ been perfect, but then—

She’d insisted on going to looking for Jason and Sonny, then she’d fought with Sonny, making things with Jason worse— _again._

“Hey—” Jason sat next to her. He touched her face, brushing her tears away with his thumb. “Why are you sorry?”

“I wasted all my energy on Sonny—I pushed myself—” She closed her eyes as the tears continued to slide down her cheeks. “And we didn’t even get to dance.”

He drew her back against his chest, wrapping an arm around her waist, his hand resting on her belly, just above where their son was sleeping for once. “It’s okay. We can dance some other time—”

“It’s not the same—” Her breath hitched, and she felt the tightness in her lungs again. Damn it. No! _No_ , not tonight!

“Elizabeth.”

“It’s not—” She bit down hard on her tongue. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. C’mon,” Jason murmured. He pressed his lips to her temple. “Let’s just take a minute. We’ll do your breathing exercises.”

Elizabeth inhaled, counted to fifteen, then exhaled, repeating the process until she could fill her lungs more fully. She felt Jason’s chest rising behind her, in time with her own. It was the quickest way to avoid going for the oxygen—

“Better?”

“Yeah.” And he’d been right, of course. She'd needed to take a minute, to give herself a chance to settle down. Elizabeth sat up and slowly turned, so she was facing him. “I’m sorry about Sonny,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have gone out there. Or I should have let Bobbie and Carly handle it. I was just worried—”

“I know. And I’m sorry, too. When you interrupted us, I should have just gone back with you into the ballroom, but once Sonny told Carly about Ric, I thought—”

“You thought Sonny might do or say something to upset her. Maybe even trigger another episode,” Elizabeth finished. “And to make sure he didn’t lie to her about Ric. Because Sonny isn’t above lying to Carly to get her to come back to the Towers.”

“No,” Jason admitted. He looked down at their hands, sliding his thumb over the silver band he’d put on her finger that day, joining the ruby engagement ring he’d given her the day she’d testified against Vinnie. “If I thought there was any danger—”

“Sonny’s wrong,” she told him. He met her eyes. “If you’d told me before the wedding that we had to cancel or postpone because there was danger, I would have been okay with it.”

“You deserved this day,” Jason told her roughly. “I wanted it for you. For both of us,” he added. He tilted his head, his eyes soft. “You looked beautiful. You still do,” he added. “But just—in the church—taking the photos—you were so happy.”

“I _am_ happy,” Elizabeth promised him. She leaned forward, their lips brushing softly at first, then harder. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips, then dipped inside. She moaned, tried to press herself closer to him, her fingers digging at the buttons of his tuxedo shirt—

Then her lungs seized, and she drew back, gasping for air. Jason didn’t even blink. He reached behind them for the tank, fitting the mask over her face. “Look at me,” he told her. “Focus on me—”

She managed to keep the tears at bay until the spell had passed, until she could draw a full breath. “I’m sorry—”

“I know—”

“I’m _useless_ —”

“Hey—” Jason framed her face in his hands, his thumbs sweeping across her cheeks, brushing away her tears. “ _Stop_. You’re not disappointing me. You couldn’t.”

“I just—” Elizabeth forced herself to keep her breath even. She couldn’t even get upset anymore, couldn’t even really let go.

_Everything_ took more energy than it used to. She’d have good days where she felt almost normal, and then there be days where she’d be tired—She’d just hoped—she’d really wanted it to be different today.

“I just wanted it to be normal,” she told him. “I just wanted us to have a wedding night. You know?”

“I do.” Jason got to his feet and drew her up, bracing her with his hand at her waist. “And we will.” When she looked away, he pulled her face back towards him, cupping her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I know we weren’t going to talk about it today, but you need to know that all I wanted was to be married to you. I have everything I need right now.”

She let her head drop to his chest, feeling some of the pressure leave her—not only physically, but mentally. He meant every word he’d just said— _she_ was the one putting all the pressure on this day, on the things that came along with it. Jason would have married in her middle of the woods with no one around.

He’d done this for her, even though he’d worried it’d be too stressful, that it would demand too much of her.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m okay. I feel better. I do,” she added when he didn’t look convinced. “Can you do me a favor? Can you—can you put on the stereo? I left a CD in there—um—” She wrinkled her nose as he went over to the table at the base of the stairs, across from the pool table. “Track 3. I think that’s the right one.”

With a shrug, Jason pressed play.

_Oh, why you look so sad?_   
_Tears are in your eyes_   
_Come on and come to me now_

“I don’t think I could manage a full dance,” Elizabeth told him as the Pretenders echoed in the quiet, dark room. She walked out into the open space at the bottom of the stairs and held out a hand. “But maybe just a little while?”

_Don't be ashamed to cry_   
_Let me see you through_   
_'Cause I've seen the dark side too_

“Okay.” Jason took her hand, drew her close. She rested her hand against his chest, closing her eyes.

_When the night falls on you_   
_You don't know what to do_   
_Nothin' you confess_   
_Could make me love you less_

“Was this what you’d picked out for us?” Jason asked, his breath rustling through her hair. “It seems a little sad.”

_I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you_   
_Won't let nobody hurt you_   
_I'll stand by you_

“It was on the short list,” Elizabeth told him, “but Emily agreed with you, and I didn’t think anyone else would appreciate it.” She raised her head to look at him. “But I love this song.”

_So, if you're mad, get mad_   
_Don't hold it all inside_   
_Come on and talk to me now_

“I’m sorry I keep doing this,” she said as they gently swayed, barely moving from their spot. “I keep making everything bigger than it is. Wanting today to be perfect.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s not, and I love you for thinking it is.” She smiled at him. “Thank you. For today.”

_Hey, what you got to hide?_

_I get angry too_   
_Well I'm a lot like you_

“It was a good day,” Jason replied. He kissed her hand. “Don’t worry about Sonny. Or Carly. I’ll take care of it.”

“I know you will.”

_When you're standing at the crossroads_   
_And don't know which path to choose_

“Do you remember the first time we danced?” she asked him. “This is better,” she continued without waiting for him to answer. “I’m not pretending that I’m pretending you’re someone else.”

_Won't let nobody hurt you_

_I'll stand by you_   
_Take me in, into your darkest hour_   
_And I'll never desert you_   
_I'll stand by you_

“Wait, you _weren_ _’t_ pretending I was Lucky? I thought that was the plan—”

She laughed, then looked up at him again, her chin resting on his chest, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “It was. But you know—you’re _not_ Lucky.”

“I noticed.”

_And when, when the night falls on you, baby_   
_You're feelin' all alone_   
_You won't be on your own_

Elizabeth laughed again, and he grinned. “Anyway. This is for us. No one else but us.” They drifted for a while, gently swaying, letting the music wash over them.

_Take me in, into your darkest hour_   
_And I'll never desert you_   
_I'll stand by you_

As the song faded away, Elizabeth took a deep breath and met her new husband’s eyes. “I know we said we would try not to make plans—”

“Elizabeth—”

_I'll stand by you_

“But I want to make one, okay? Just one.”

“Okay.” He tipped his head to the side. “What is it?”

“A year from now,” Elizabeth said, “when the baby is born, and I’ve had my surgery, you and I will dance to the song I actually picked for us. Just you and me. Okay? I just—I want to make that one promise to each other.”

“Okay,” Jason said. “A year from now. On our first anniversary. That’s a date.” He leaned down to kiss her again. She gripped his shirt in her hand, then reluctantly drew back. “I love you,” she told him.

“I love you, too.”

_Miami, Florida_

**The Setai Miami Beach Hotel: Grand Suite**

Claudia Zacchara sauntered out of the luxurious bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around her, glaring at the man lounging on the king-size bed who barely looked over at her. “I could dance naked, and you’d still be looking at that whale,” she muttered as she stalked over to her suitcase.

Ric Lansing glanced over at her, setting aside the laptop computer. “I’ve seen it before,” he said coolly. “And I’ve told you not to call her that.”

Claudia sniffed, tugged out a black lace teddy. She let the towel drop, then turned back to Ric, a hand fisted on her naked hip. “Why didn’t you hit the wedding? It was _perfect_. We could have grabbed the little waif at the church. Poetic justice.”

Ric scowled, shoved himself off the bed. “They would have been expecting it. I didn’t lay low for the last three months to screw it up now.” He looked back at the website for the _Port Charles Herald_ with the wedding headline and a photo of Elizabeth with Jason at one of the hearings she’d attended.

His blood boiled again as he reached for the laptop, studying the way Jason’s hand lingered at the small of Elizabeth’s back like it had any _right_ to be there.

“They’ve heard by now from Javi that you’re back on the mainland,” Claudia said, dragging Ric’s thoughts away from Elizabeth and back to her.

“What does your so-called secret weapon say?” Ric said with a sneer. “You’ve had a guy on the inside for nearly two weeks—”

“Jason and Sonny are avoiding each other like the plague,” Claudia said coolly. “Which is why we let it slip that you’re in Miami. We made sure that Javi’s people contacted the business adviser. My guy will know how the message gets filtered. Sonny went bonkers every time my father planted a sighting.” She smiled at the thought of her idiot father and his lawyer.

They thought they were in control, but they’d never know what hit them.

“If you want to grab your one true love,” Claudia told him, sliding into a tight black dress, “we should grab her before we set up the Philly sighting. By then, they won’t be able to pretend it’s not happening.”

Ric grimaced, then looked back at the photo again. “No,” he murmured. “I don’t think we’ll grab her after all. She’s pregnant.”

“All the better—Morgan will be _desperate_ —”

“But something might happen to the baby.” Ric shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it.” Everything had gone wrong when Elizabeth had lost that baby. If he’d just killed Faith when he’d had the chance—it would all be different.

“What do you care?” Claudia demanded. “It’s not your kid—”

“I said we’re not grabbing her,” Ric snapped, his eyes flashing as he locked eyes with hers. “Not yet.”

Claudia shrugged, then sat down to put on a pair of black heels. “Suit yourself. But once they actually think you’re coming back—” She arched a dark brow. “You won’t get near her again.”

“You underestimate me,” Ric murmured. Claudia snorted, then went back into the bathroom to apply her makeup. He shook his head.

Everyone underestimated him. They thought he was weak or stupid. They’d all find out soon enough what Ric Lansing was capable of.

Elizabeth would live long enough to regret betraying him. For lying to him, pretending to love him. He’d make her beg for her life before he killed her and took her child for his own.

She’d promised him a family. She had promised him until death did them apart, and he was going to make sure she kept those vows.

**THE END** **…FOR NOW**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming Next**
> 
> **Fool Me Twice, Book 1** _February 2021_
> 
> In October of 2017, the city of Port Charles is stunned when a man with Jason Morgan’s old face shows up at the Aurora Media re-launch party claiming to be the infamous enforcer. Though his identity is quickly proven to be true, the city will never be the same.
> 
> Drew Cain has a new name and new face, but none of his old memories. He’s living Jason’s life with Jason’s wife, raising Jason’s children. Who is he? Where did he come from? Jason Morgan has been gone for five years and nothing is the way he thought it would be. His wife has moved on — with a man she thought was him. His dead son has been miraculously resurrected and another son has been identified as his own.
> 
> Jason and Drew must learn to work together to find out who stole their lives and put their families in danger. They’re not the only patients with memory issues — if Jason is Patient Six — well, who were the first five?
> 
> Someone has to pay for the lives destroyed by the twin swap and memory experimentation, but in Port Charles, sometimes it's hard to tell friend from foe.
> 
> **For the Broken Girl, Book 2** _May 2021_
> 
> Elizabeth Webber has never been happier. She’s finally walked away from her toxic marriage and filed for divorce. She’s working at a job she loves, raising the perfect little boy, enjoying her friends and family, and reveling in the love a man who loves every single part of her—even her flaws. With her estranged husband in a thirty-day rehab, Elizabeth can focus on herself for a change.
> 
> Then Lucky returns, sober and begging for another chance. His friends and family are eager to blame the drugs for his abuse and violence, and turn on Elizabeth for not being more understanding. The PCPD don’t respect her restraining order and make excuses when Lucky violates it.
> 
> Elizabeth doesn’t want to look back anymore—she’s finally living a life without regrets and planning a new future. She’s willing to pay any price to protect it—and it just might cost her everything.
> 
> **Mad World, Book 4**  
>  _Sometime in 2021_
> 
> The city of Port Charles weathered many scandals and tragedies in 2003 — from the nearly tragic kidnapping of Carly Corinthos and attempted murder of Elizabeth Webber to the serial rapist that stalked the city for months, leaving victims broken and shattered in his wake. The PCPD, having sworn to protect the city, faltered when they learned one of their own was the villain all along.
> 
> A few months later, the city tries to recover but they should be careful what they wish for. Ric Lansing still haunts the dreams and memories of the people he damaged — has he really left Port Charles behind for good?
> 
> Dante Falconieri breaks under the weight of family secrets and his own weaknesses. Kelsey Joyce wants to find out who murdered her father—no matter what the cost. Carly Corinthos just wants to move on with her life and keep her family safe. And Elizabeth Morgan wants to forget that Ric Lansing ever existed as she awaits the birth of her son.
> 
> It’s time close the book on this mad, mad, mad world.
> 
> **Damaged** _September_ _2021_
> 
> Set Spring 2014. When AJ Quartermaine is murdered in cold blood, the question isn’t who did it — everyone already knows that answer. It’s up to the PCPD, under Commissioner Anna Devane, to get justice for AJ’s family — for the beleaguered Quartermaine clan that’s been decimated in recent years.
> 
> Michael has cut ties with the Corinthos clan, devastated by the betrayal of his adopted father, by the secrets of his mother, and the loss of the father he’d only begun to love. Monica is eager to welcome him into the family—he’s all that she has left since she’s buried all four of her children.
> 
> Or so she thinks.
> 
> Off the coast of Greece, Victor Cassadine hands Robin Scorpio a shocking assignment — wake Jason Morgan from the coma he’s been in for the last five years. If she fails, she’ll forfeit Jason’s life and her own, never to return to her husband and daughter. If she succeeds — Jason can go home to take his life back from the con artist wearing his face—the man who went off the pier in 2012.
> 
> And maybe, just maybe, Victor will let Jason return with the other secret resident of Cassadine Island.


End file.
